Always Watching
by Dragon's-Maidens
Summary: Why am I here? There is nothing for me to fix, nothing for me to save, and yet I'm here, why? What if I say something or do something wrong? Will time be forever altered? Modern girl in 1191 AD.
1. Chapter 1

Always Watching

Disclaimer: I don't own the Assassin's Creed games, those rights solely belong to Ubisoft.

A/N: Girl travels through time to an assassin's timeline, either Altair's or Ezio's, it's so cliché but you know what, I'm going to write one. I was inspired by a fic by Mismatched lover and her fic Just Beyond My Reach, My Assassin. Go read it, it's simply amazing and the way it's written out, seriously, the girl should be given props.

Chapter One

The sun was dipping low into the earth, the final moments of the day just before the night began. Already, the prayer leaders are singing out into the dusk, their song resonating in the air. They were singing out to begin the fifth and final time of prayer for the day before night settles in. I hear so many set off on preparations to start their ritual, rolling out rugs as they formed a line to the nearest barrel of clean water, washing their hands, feet and head. The clay wall pressed against my back reminded me that I wasn't to move as the people below me, on the streets, each took to the rugs, crouching to sit on their knees, their heads turning as whispers filled the air before facing forward before bowing, their foreheads touching the earth as they faced their holy city, their sanctuary, whispering their prayers to the earth below them. I have seen this sight many times now, always a witness, never a participant. I wasn't of their religion, of their origins, I wasn't one of them. Still, it was always a breathtaking sight to be seen.

I will never join them, not because I hate them, not because I choose not to, but because to them, I'm an outcast, a heretic, barbaric in my own ways, and yet, I'm not at the same time. They're polite, well, some, but I've learned to keep to myself. Perhaps it's because I've learned the goods and evils of this world and have made it apparent that I don't want to be messed with. They stick to themselves; I stick to myself, an outcast in this world, in this time. This land, this time, this world, it isn't my own, it'll never be mine. I guess I should start from the beginning, at the real start, back before this point in my life. My name is Elizabeth, and I'm not of this world.

-.-.-

Many years ago, in the future but past…

-.-.-

A normal day, psh, what is normal anymore? My life is a routine: get up, go shower, go to work, come home, sleep, unless of course, I have days off, then it's get up, game, go to bed. That won't be for a long time, not with my boss constantly changing my hours around. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind the work, I don't mind getting a paycheck, it's the fact that I'm a gamer and haven't been near the computer in a long time. Whatever, a job's a job. I'm young enough to get any job, yet old enough to secure a career, the rest of my life. I frowned at that thought. I don't want to pick out the rest of my life, I want it to be filled with excitement, surprises, anything. Still, this life that I have, it'll never be like that. I sighed as I rose from my double bed, my alarm clock telling me I have less than three hours to get ready for work. UGH! Still, I swung my legs out of my warm bed, my skin telling me it's colder than expected as I shivered, goose bumps rising on my skin.

I grunted. Why did I have morning shift again? Oh yeah, because my hours were changed. Joy. If I didn't have morning shift, I'd game until it was time to get ready. A day or two off, maybe for gaming, or, if location and everything allowed, maybe even swimming. But instead, I had a job, a job that took away from my days. I sighed again before walking to the linen closet, grabbing a towel and heading for the shower. With the hot water, the steam filled the room quickly as I felt my pores opening, my skin breathing as my muscles quickly relaxed. Oh, humidity, how I love you so much. The only thing bad about being in a hot shower like this was that I hadn't eaten yet and so my stomach was rolling around and my skin would jump every time a drop of cold shampoo would fall on it. I growled before ducking under the water.

Bubbles traveled down my body, in the natural rivets, past my small breast and hips, even tickling my legs. My legs. I rolled my eyes as I grabbed a razor, bending down at the waist as the sharp metal danced on my skin, being careful of my ankles, the tendons, the one vein that just sticks out on my right ankle. My arm pits came next, those were so easy though: razor up, razor down, repeat on other side. I smiled though. I love feeling my soft skin after it's shaved. My legs, as scarred up at the knees as they are, they feel so soft and smooth after a shave and if they were tanned like my arms, they'd be pretty. Even with their paleness, I guess they're pretty. The bubbles quit running as I raised my hands to help with the rinsing, my hair feeling rough as the shampoo did its job. I grabbed the conditioner and lathered up my hair as well, felling it turn silky and soft. I let the bubbles flow before grabbing soft soap, rubbing the bar against my body as it made soft gentle bubbles, the smell of cinnamon incasing me in its sharp scent.

When my skin no longer felt rough with dirt, I set my soap away as water beat on my skin, washing away the slick that clung to my person as I rinsed my hair as well, feeling the conditioner work its magic. I sighed as I looked down at my hands. As much as I loved showering, my hands were showing signs of peeling. I sighed as I turned off the water and wrung out my hair. It wasn't long, to my shoulder blades, long enough to put in a ponytail and forget about it if need be. I grabbed a towel, drying my skin before seeing my legs drip with blood. I dabbed at where the blood was formed and frowned. The crimson liquid dewed near my knee. I rolled my eyes; I'd have to remember to put a Band-Aid on it after I finish getting ready.

As I wrapped the towel around myself, I looked to see the mirror covered in steam. The mirror was always a good doodle canvas; ever since I was a child, I had always drawn on the mirror after a bath or a shower. As I began to brush my teeth, I quickly made swirls around the bottom and sides that I could reach, drawing little faces in the corners before looking at the fogged middle. Without realizing what I was doing, my finger drew something. I was quite taken back to what I had just drawn, an A without the connective line in the middle, the ends pointed like an old compass; just before the swells of the compass, and two decorative markings held shape, even as water began to pool where my finger was. Under the A was an upside down crescent, completing the symbol, making me wonder why in the world I drew it. This, the symbol of the assassins of the game Assassin's Creed.

This gave me a sudden idea. I spat out the foam that was once toothpaste and washed my face, setting my toothbrush back in the drawer it came from. Heading back to my room, I left the bathroom door open, knowing that the marking on the mirror would fade. I quickly grabbed a gel pen, knowing the ink would stay longer than a normal ball point pen's ink on skin, plus, with how it flows out, it'll be bigger and more apparent. I grinned as I quickly drew the symbol on the inside of my ankle, small enough so it wasn't distracting, but large enough to be seen and recognized. I suddenly giggled to myself, getting an idea in my head. Since I just drew the symbol twice, maybe I should be in a theme. I knew that I had a dress, a long black dress with a halter top, white embroidery decorating the material, which it gave a bohemian look but to me, it reminded me of the rafiq jackets in the game.

I giggled as I dressed, tying the straps behind my head. Turning giddy, I began to hope that with how I appear and act, that maybe the store will get a good amount of customers and hopefully, this will increase my paycheck. I quickly dried my hair, pulling on high heels, the dress's hem touching the floor as I grabbed the keys to my car, my POS convertible, and my purse holding my things and headed down to the garage. My car, oh I hate this car during certain times, this being one, squealed at me as I made a mental note to tell my father to tighten the belt again. As the squealing quieted, I set the car in reverse and pulled out of my garage, hitting the button the lowered the door. On the road, I was free, happy, able to feel the wind if I had my hand out the window. This suddenly reminded me; I reached my hand into my purse to look at my watch. I never wore it in the car; I was scared that it would fall off if my arm was hanging out the window. I glanced down at the face for a brief second and frowned. My watch stopped. I tossed it back into my purse as my eyes trained themselves on the road. It stopped sometime in the night, I guess.

I pondered this for a good while, but my train of thoughts came to an abrupt stop as a truck swerved out of its lane and headed straight towards me. I gasped when I saw that I had no time to react, the truck already inches from me. The speed I was going at quickly passed through my head and the speed the truck might be going at, then about the impact it would cause. I wouldn't survive this… I closed my eyes tightly as the sound of metal colliding began to fill my ears.

-.-.-

The noise suddenly changed. I no longer heard my car's engine, the squealing of the truck's brakes, or the shattering of glass that I knew was going to happen. No, it was different, like a bunch of voices talking. I suddenly felt hot, like I stepped from a cool house to a desert like environment. Opening my eyes, I saw a drab brown wall in front of me, a crack crawling up, and spider-webbing out as it reached a corner. I quickly looked around, noticing that I was pressed into a corner of some wooden post like thing with barrels tucked in and a wall that had a bug of some kind crawling along the sand. Sand? Beneath me, dusting my dress, was sand and dirt mixed together. It felt weird; I have never sat on sand before so the shifting was certainly something I wasn't used to.

My heels, my poor heels, they were no longer velvety black but now an ugly mixture of brown and black, the fur like material rough and gritty under my finger tips. I groaned as I stood up, my body complaining, possibly because I was sitting down for whoever knows how long. I was in some sort of alley in the middle of…wherever I am, listening to a language clearly not my own and…I think I'm actually a little afraid. Not afraid of people, or the dangers, should there be any, but of where I am. I doubt that I'm home, in my state, in my car driving off to a job that tortures my poor feet and sends me home hungry and tired. I don't even think I'm in my country by the voices and the heat. This language, it's not a familiar language. Already I've got sand in my heels but I'll have to suffer until I figure out where I am. I can tell that this isn't going to turn out very well.

Walking, the voices begin to fade which means that I'm traveling away from town, I suppose, and into the less traveled paths. I am wary before I turn a corner, unsure of what I should expect. As I pressed myself against on corner, peeking my head out and around, I'm surprised by a sight before my eyes, making me drawing back and put a hand over my heart, a woman in a chadar, a veil covering her face. I've seen women in them before in textbooks and TV and once when I woman passed by the store with her husband and child but still, this sight shocks me. I close my eyes as my finger feel my skin the halter bodice is letting show. SKIN? I look down to see that I'm not exactly safe, if I am where I think I am. I change directions all together and begin searching for the one thing I know that'll save me from being stoned or lashed, fabric. Finally locating a sash, after having to hide from several people, ducking and hiding in doorways, I wrapped my shoulders in the scratchy material, making sure to cover my head, tucking any loose strands of hair from my face. I wasn't sure if I should have my face uncovered so I took my chance, holding the makeshift shawl closed with a hand, the only skin now showing was my hand and face.

I trembled. If I am where I think I am, I just need to run into an English speaker, have them point me into the direction of the nearest ARMY base, then have them contact my uncle and great uncle and fly my ass out of here and back to my home. For once, I was grateful for having an ARMY family. Traveling down the alley, I took a deep breath before stepping out into traffic of a crowd, thankfully no one noticed it seemed, as long as I keep my eyes down so no one sees the blue-green to give me away, I should be safe. I still don't get how I'm here when I just had a car accident back at home, some many thousand miles away, half way around the globe, practically! I passed by a man crying out to the crowd. Probably one of those, oh what were they called, heralds? Yeah, a herald, a very early version of an anchorman for the news. Why was there a herald here, didn't they have TV or radio or something for their news? Seemed a bit odd.

Still pressed on, I have no idea where I'm going or what I'm going to do when I get there, possibly just say "American girl here" and hopefully someone will help out. Already, all these rules are passing through my head: don't look a man in the eyes, don't show more skin than you have to, don't shout, a lot of don'ts. Suddenly, overhead, I heard a bell toll as a song being sung began to fill the air. People around me began to quiet down and begin to mass in the streets, throwing rugs out in the middle as they go near barrels filled with water. I stop where I am, realizing what's going to happen and search for the nearest alley. Their prayers were about to start and this wasn't a spectator sport, this was sacred, something they hold dear to themselves. Still, curiosity compels me to watch from the shadows. Someone looks over to where I am and frowns, causing me to look away instantly and walk away. I'm not invited to watch.

Sighing, I look up above the roofs, seeing that the cloudless sky is a pretty blinding blue as I cover my eyes. My brother's Boy Scout skills would come in handy right about now, if he were here with me, that is. I'm all alone. Back at home, I'm more confident, knowing that I have my freedom, my rights, but here, I'm terrified, weak and scared, powerless and alone. Leaning against a wall, I sat down, taking off my heels to empty them off sand. I may have to ignore the hem of my dress and go barefoot, though I'll have to be careful where I step. My temporary tattoo that I drew looks different. I lick my thumb and begin to rub it off, but it won't rub off. I rub my skin hard, feeling it start to burn but still, the mark didn't fade. If anything, it was getting darker and darker. It was with gel ink, this doesn't make sense! I growl and huff, crossing my arms, angry at my mark and at where I am.

I don't know how long I was sitting there, probably the whole day, away from people, trying to ignore the heat as my lips became dry and cracked, many thoughts, songs, anything were bouncing around in my head. I guess I dozed off because the bells rang again, startling me. My back screamed at me, my legs complaining as my knees felt weird. I knew that walking would be a difficult thing. Still, I stood, watching as the sky grew dark in front of me. I guess they, the people of this place, were finishing their daily prayers, then they'd turn in soon. I lowered my eyes, trying not to think of my own bed where my dogs would curl up with me, my mother probably getting her final cup of coffee before turning in, my father telling me little brother goodnight before bidding me the same. My family, they must be missing me, they probably called my work, the cops, family and friends, just to figure out where I am. My mother must be in a panic while my dad in a rage, and of course, my brother would show indifference but I know he'd worry about me as well.

Home, I miss my home; I've never gone a day without having contact with my family. I couldn't think about that now, I have to find a place for the night. A bird cried out over head, a large one as it circled the city before it flapped it's large wings, perching itself on a tower's beam. I couldn't help but think that I've seen a tower like that before… I gave no other thought as people began to turn in, merchants closing down their stands as mother chided their children, men talking loudly, sharing a few laughs before walking away from friends. My eyes looked above me, watching as a guard circled a building's rooftop before disappearing down a ladder.

Ladders lead up and in a desert like environment, the nights will be freezing. If I get higher up, I'll be warm. Great, I'm thinking like a homeless now; I suppose I am in this city. Grabbing a handful of my skirt, the heels brushing against the fabric as I climbed the ladder one handed. On top seemed to be some sort of pin, like a wooden tent of some kind. Now I know I've seen this before, this was a hiding spot from guards in Assassin's Creed. Maybe the ones in the games were modeled after these? Still, I took no time in getting in one, thinking that if I sleep in the street or alley, I most likely will be beaten, kidnapped or raped. I shuddered at the last thought. This will not only keep my body heat in, hopefully, but it'll also block out the sun, should I not wake up until later the next morning.

Laying the blanket out on the wooden bottom, I set my heels in one corner before curling up, pressing my back against one of the walls, and closed my eyes. Maybe if I open them, I'll be back home…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own AC, that's all Ubisoft.

A/N: So yeah, the first chapter was just a basic "girl in her own time" thing but I did have a different way of entering the past/game. Anyways, here's chapter two.

I don't know what time it was when I woke up but I knew what woke me up, the shouting. I don't know who was shouting or what they were shouting at, I just knew that it woke me up and when I wake up, I'm not a morning person. As the sleep began to wear off, I felt the heat, reminding me where I was before the shouting came closer, telling me that I didn't move from my spot. I'm glad they're not yelling at me. I sat up and stretched, spreading my toes as I groaned, thankful to be out of that painful position. My fingers felt the itchy material beneath me as I sighed, another day of covering my head, so not to bring attention to myself and possibly get hurt. Without warning, one of the fabric walls of the pin moved suddenly as a man stood on the edge of the wood, his breath heavy and golden eyes hard as they stared at me. I couldn't tell if it was anger at me or whatever he was running from but he jumped in with me, quickly closing the way he came from.

My heart pounded as I looked at the man. There was no way in hell that I was looking at the main character of Assassin's Creed, there was no possible way! But still, standing before me was indeed Altair ibn La-Ahad, his robes covered in a very fine layer of dust, stubble on his chin, scarred lips and I'm staring. I quickly look away, not because I'm staring at one of my favorite video game characters, but because I'm in a place where it isn't proper for a woman to look upon a man who wasn't her husband or family member. I glance at where he came from, lifting the fabric up just a few centimeters to see that guards were near us. Dropping the fabric, I put my hand over my mouth to keep from gasping and making other noises as I held perfectly still, trying not to shake. I think I know where I am, Jerusalem, with an assassin who can kill me several different ways without breaking a sweat, without using any of the many blades on him, and near many armed guards with very sharp swords. I'm so dead.

My heart's pounding as I feel myself shake. I'm inside a video game? Wait, wait, wait, that's not possible, I can't be in a video game! This is all a dream, just a really detailed, really scary dream. I want to grab one of Altair's knives and stab myself so I wake up but there's always the possibility that this IS real, then I'd be screwed royally with a wound I enforced on myself. The guard gave up, I suppose, I didn't check, instead, Altair did, his index finger and middle finger catching the edge of the fabric of the pin, moving it aside to peek out. I see that he did this with his left hand, the ring finger evident of it being cut off as I see the ugly yet pretty scar where the second knuckle would be. I'm staring again. I look away as he looks at me, his voice speaking quickly, causing me to look up in confusion. He was speaking to me in Arabic, a language I don't speak. I guess he caught my confusion because he repeated himself, his eyes growing colder, but this time, he said it slower, as if thinking I was not right in the head. Still, I couldn't answer or respond when I don't understand a single thing he's saying. He growled out and turned his head, doing a double take as he looked at my feet. CRAP! I'm not properly covered for a man to see me. I grab the hem of my dress and cover my feet as I curl my legs, wrapping the fabric I had taken the other day to wrap around my shoulders.

I looked back up at him, his eyes flashed so quickly, I nearly missed it. Was he using his Eagle Vision on me? The mark, he must have seen my stupid fangirly mark. His eyebrows furrowed before he spoke slowly, kneeling down to be in front of me, trying to communicate in any possible way but I lowered my gaze. He huffed before standing, snapping his finger to catch my attention, tilting his head under the white hood, motioning that he wanted me to follow him. I stood, moving the fabric I stole over my head and held it together with my hand. I looked down at my shoes before putting them on, my height increasing an inch as I looked back at him. Altair was still much taller than me, dwarfing my short height of 5'2 even more. He didn't blink before turning his head and jumping out of the pin, holding up the fabric to watch me do the same. I can't jump in a dress! I sat on the edge and swung my legs over though, nodding when I was clear, gaining an eye roll from the assassin. He walked ahead, every once in a while turning his head to see if I was following, as if my heels weren't an indication.

He stopped suddenly and looked over the edge before looking at me, pointing over the edge. Curiosity got the best of me as I looked over the edge, my heart stopping. A hay pile was right beneath us, his favorite way of getting down from tall buildings. I looked back over at him, fear now hitting home in my heart. Oh no, no, no, no, no. I shook my head and backed away, putting my hand in between us, telling him no. He apparently doesn't listen to body language because he grabbed my wrist and pulled me close as an arm wrapped around my waist and fell forward. I gasped and clutched his armor tightly, my eyes closed, waiting for the sudden stop. With a hush of hay crumbling, I was surprised. I was expecting to land on my tail bone and break something or to miss all together. Instead, we landed on our sides, the hay cushioning our fall. Looking over at Altair, he raised an eyebrow as his arm moved away from me. I realized that I was still clinging to him and quickly let go, a blush on my cheeks as I looked away.

Standing, he began to walk away, not even bothering to help me. I snorted before standing, brushing off any of the hay that would have clung to my person. Altair really was a prick just like he was in the game, this ticked me off but I followed him nonetheless. Maybe he might know a way to get me back home. I regarded his back as I began to make note of his state of being. He was without some of his knives, without his sword, having someone else's instead. Wait; was he in the process of gaining his status back as Master Assassin? Something inside of me should be disgusted that I'm being barked around by a novice but I was still in shock from not only being in 1191 AD but also, possibly, in a game where I may or may not die at any moment. This time period, if I'm correct, doesn't have too much of an advancement in medicine, they haven't discovered America, I'm pretty sure that everyone is thinking the world is flat. I'm in hell.

Still I follow him as he swiftly passes women carrying jars. I pause, I can't do that as well as he can, I'd bump into one and their jar would fall and break and they'd get upset at me and the next thing I know, I'll have a guard chasing me to where there is safe! Still, I take a deep breath and head into the crowd where the assassin went, my hand barely touching the bellies of some of the women as I passed by them, causing them to pause. Ahead of me, Altair is waiting, watching me struggle, not even bothering to help out. I sigh as I lower my eyes to watch where I step, still getting by the jar carriers. There certainly are a lot. I'm watching them pass each other, some with jars filled with water, others walking with empty jars. Are they the ones that fill up the barrels for the daily prayers?

Rough fingers grasped mine as I was suddenly jerked away, my body tilting to wherever I was being pulled to. Altair frowns as his grip tightens, pain starting in my fingertips as my knuckles roll suddenly. I wince and gasp, pulling my hand to get free; I guess he gets the point and lets go, watching my rub my knuckles better. I'm thankful he pulled me out the crowd and into an open area, but he didn't have to hurt me, even if he didn't mean it. I want to shout at him but it'd probably come out as English and with where I am, the people would probably think me a heretic and kill me, and if I speak French to Altair, he might think me an ally to Robert de Sable. So, I instead, just glare at him as the numbness drains from my hand. He rolled his eyes and tilted his head again; I guess he was tired of my pouting about my hand.

I don't know how far we walked but we didn't stop until he held up a hand, signaling me to stop. Turning to his right, Altair pointed to a ladder. Great, another order. I sighed but did as was told, still thinking that this wasn't going to end well, that life for me was just going to get even more complicated. I gathered the skirt of my dress and began to climb, the wood feeling weird in my hands but I ignore it. As I reached the top of the ladder and began to walk on the roof of wherever it was he took us, my heel decided to act up, tripping me in the process. Arms caught me suddenly, my face pressed in armor as my hands gripped whatever had caught me. Looking up, I saw Altair staring down at me, his golden eyes watching me carefully as I stood up straight, my hands releasing him. That's twice now that we've been in a position like that.

I look away, my eyes catching what I tripped over. The rooftop was carved; my shoe must have caught on the edge. There, large and proud, was the symbol of the assassins, the same that was on my ankle. We were at a bureau. My stomach descended as I thought of the Dai inside, just beneath my feet. Malik. I knew the history between he and Altair so I knew that I shouldn't expect some sort of friendly greeting. I then looked down at myself and realized that I'm not exactly someone who should be following an assassin; I look like someone you borrow for an evening before tossing away at first dawn's light. Altair didn't seem to notice my reluctance to follow him; he just jumped down the ivy grate, expecting me to follow him. Sighing, I closed my eyes. Just don't act like someone that can't be trusted.

Going to the ivy, I peered down, seeing that Altair was looking up, waiting for me. If this guy wasn't such a hard ass, I'd probably consider that he was being nice. Still, I went to the grate, tossing down my ruined shoes. Ah well, they're out of season. Lowering myself to sit on the edge of the grate, Altair raised his arms, ready to catch me. Why couldn't there be a ladder coming down here? Still, I pushed myself off, watching as Altair came closer to view, his hands catching me roughly as his thumbs pushed my dress up just shy of my breasts, my skirt already showing my legs as they were pressed against his. With my hands on his arms, I could feel the strength in them as they held me up. We stayed like this for a second before he set me down, his hands lowering to my waist, my dress straightening as he did so. My skirt was still hiked up due to his armor, but I let my hands slid from his shoulder to his forearms, turning my head away. His eyes were intense and looking away was hard but I knew that this isn't right.

When he left me go, I quickly straightened my dress, holding my arms close, not bothering with the material around my feet as Altair left to go into a room, the one I knew Malik was in. It wasn't until I heard the two of them exchange words did I move. My shoes and the shawl were in a corner as I stared up at the opening of the ivied grate. How in the world does Malik climb up with just one arm? Was there another ladder he had hidden? Staring up at the ivy, I missed Altair walking up and setting a hand on my shoulder, scaring the daylights out of me. I didn't hear him! I suddenly feel stupid for thinking that, he's an assassin; of course he wouldn't walk noisily.

He tilted his head to the door, motioning for me to go in. I look at the door, took a deep breath and walked forward. I knew that inside will be the amputated Dai, another feared assassin. Holding my breath, I entered the room, my eyes casted down as I saw the tiles move beneath my feet before drawing them up to view the man behind the counter. At first he just regarded me before a smirk spread over his face, he called out Altair's name before he started to speak to his underling. Altair's face grew red before he snapped off something as well, causing Malik to tilt his head back and roar with laughter. I got the impression that they were talking about me, so I looked away, an embarrassed flush covering my face.

The two bickered for a moment before Altair sighed, drawing Malik out of a chuckle. The two suddenly grew serious, I felt the air grow tense as Altair rambled off a string of phrases, Malik nodded, contemplating what the novice assassin was saying. The Dai spoke quickly, cutting Altair off, probably correcting something that was said, I wasn't really sure, before he set a heavy tome on the counter, his hand reaching for the quill as it sat neatly in the ink holder. More words were passed between the two before Malik began writing a few things down in his giant book of his, perhaps a few things that he and Altair spoke.

Malik looked at me before waving a hand my way, his voice irritated. Was I becoming an eyesore? I bit my lower lip and looked away, trying not to draw attention to myself but a civilian in an assassin's bureau wasn't exactly easy to overlook, especially a woman dressed in an odd fashion, showing her shoulder, back, even part of her chest due to the fabric separating her breasts. Altair looked at me before looking back at the Dai, his voice strong. Malik snorted, causing Altair to draw near me looking down at the hem of my dress. I gave him a strange look before he met my gaze pointing to my feet. What? I lifted my skirt, looking down at my toes, the hem just barely above my ankles as Altair said something, pointing to the mark on one. Malik's eyes narrowed to view it, the small size not really visible from his angle. I stepped forward, going to the counter, clearing a spot. Hoping I wasn't over stepping my bounds, I climbed on top, lifting my skirt to reveal the mark to Malik.

His eyes went wide before looking up at me. He said a few things, one of them I caught and recognized, Allah, their word for God. I'm guessing he said the equivalence of "oh my God", a very commonly used phrase, but as I said, I'm just guessing. Altair replied, quickly spilling out many more words, a few of them Malik nodded too as he stared at the mark a little longer. I felt embarrassed and lowered my skirt, jumping off the counter; the bones in my feet making a thudding sound as I landed on stone. It hurt a little but the pain was bearable. Malik nodded again, saying something as Altair bowed his head, leaving to go into the courtyard of the bureau. I looked over at Malik as he looked at me, his dark eyes piercing, scaring me. His gaze softened before he looked to where Altair was. I turned and walked out to the courtyard as well, expecting the assassin to be ready to nap in the many cushions laid out for him and any others that came through Jerusalem, but instead, he was tightening his bracer.

His gaze lifted to my eyes as he shook his head, his hand out and low, telling me to stay where I am. He doesn't want me to come on this mission with him. He suddenly said something to Malik before starting to climb the wall of the courtyard, his hand gripping the edge of the grate and pulled himself up. Malik walked out as well, shouting a few things up to the retreating assassin. Altair didn't answer, he probably left. The Dai sighed before shaking his head, his gaze turning to me before entering his bureau again. I took this as a sign that he wasn't extremely happy that I, a girl, was stuck with him. To be honest, I don't think I want to be here either, he was supposed to be as strong as Altair, wiser and even though he has a disadvantage, I'm pretty sure that he could kill me instantly. Death, I didn't want to think about it at all.

I drew near the cushions, sitting on one, pulling my knees to my chest before I wriggled around a bit. I can't sit still when there's a new place to explore. In the game, I never really explored Malik's bureau, I merely passed through but now, I could explore just a bit, hopefully the Dai won't mind, right? There was a chill that reminded me that he just might and would want me dead should I touch something. Malik went out to the courtyard, holding something in his hand. Kneeling, he handed it out, his eyes watching my every move. It was a skin flask, probably filled with water. I took it, nodding thanks before looking at him warily. He tilted his head just the slightest before he understood my look, rambling off in Arabic, pointing to my feet. I looked at my feet from around my knees, catching that he meant the mark. I suppose he thought me an ally; I nodded my head slowly. He wouldn't poison me. Maybe he thought I didn't believe him because he took the skin back, opening it and took a quick swallow, handing it back to me, some water dripping off his lip, landing on his short beard, proving that it wasn't poisoned. I smiled at the water on his chin, taking the skin back before drawing a long swallow of the water, my throat relieved at the cool liquid and my stomach grateful to be filled.

Malik nodded at me and stood, leaving me to the skin and the water. I watched him from the corner of my eye, lowering the skin as I wiped an arm across my lip, drying them. They felt horrible. I fingered them gently, feeling the roughness of them. This heat, this dryness, it was torture on me and my skin. Still, I was grateful that Malik gave me water. I lidded the skin and stood, walking to the bureau so see the Dai pulling out a scroll from behind the counter. He caught me watching and snapped something, something I didn't understand, but still, it made me jump. I set the skin down on the wooden counter and looked away, my hands covering my upper arms. I should have worn the shawl instead of setting it next to my shoes. He sighed before muttering a few things, his eyes watching me. He mentioned Altair in this but that was all I caught, it was the only thing I understood. I stared at him. He said something else but when I tilted my head, he repeated it, slowly. I wish I could say "I'm sorry, I don't speak Arabic" but just one English word and I'll be labeled Templar, no matter what was on my ankle. He repeated his phrase once more, even slower but when he wasn't given his answer, he nodded to himself.

Pointing to his chest, he watched me carefully. "Malik."

Introductions? I quickly searched for a non-English name, something that he won't label Templar. I didn't know too many versions of Elizabeth and I hoped that this was right. I put a hand to my chest, my fingertips feeling the edge of my dress and skin. "Elisheba." It was Hebrew; I knew that much and it sounded very much like my name so maybe it won't raise an alarm.

Malik nodded once. "Elisheba." I smiled at that. His voice wrapped around the name, his tongue rolling the L gently. His gaze went to my dress, more-so, my feet. I suppose he wanted to look at it again. I went back to the counter and sat on it rather than standing, my dress pulled up enough to see the mark. It wasn't the most professional version of it but it was still their mark, regardless. His hand lingered above my foot as his looked at the mark closely before it finally touched my foot. I drew a breath as he quickly looked up, his hand retreating quickly, his eyes apologetic. I shook my head, and waved a hand. He didn't make this mistake twice; he put his hand on the wood next to my foot and as his eyes traced the self made once temporary now permanent tattoo. He frowned before looking back up at me, nodding down to the tattoo, his gaze questioning. I looked away and closed my eyes. He did something surprising though; he grabbed the hem of my dress and lowered it to cover my foot, never once touching my skin.

I smiled at him before getting off the counter. Whatever fear I had of him vanished in that tender moment, he wouldn't hurt me now. He nodded at me before going back to his scroll, unfurling it before it closed quickly, making him huff in annoyance. He tried again but with the same reaction. I smiled at these antics and even thought it was wrong to laugh at a cripple, I couldn't help but let out a small giggle, grabbing the edge on the scroll, placing a book on one edge and rolled it, placing his incense stand on another, holding it open for him. He looked up to me and quickly said something, probably thanks. I nodded at him stepping away from the counter, to look around the bureau. Books lined the wall behind the counter and on the wall the bureau, next to scrolls and many small boxes, each labeled. Across another wall are weapons, each very sharp and I know that they can cut through flesh without any problem.

I look back at Malik who is busy with a map. He was always busy with a map in the game so it would seem like he really is. He looks at one scroll before nodding and adding a detail to the scroll in front of him, making a small note on the side. He's a mapmaker, why didn't I see it before? That makes a lot more sense now. I feel extremely stupid. I look back at the weapons and spy a dagger. It's beautiful, the curved blade gleaming in the light as the intricately carved white handle enticed me to view it better. I reach a hand out and ghost it over the handle and of the blade, my shadow revealing more details, especially in the blade, almost a swirling pattern, entangled and mixed together. It reminds me of Celtic knots, a forever loop of beautiful shapes. Malik's voice startled me; he moved close to me. His height wasn't as tall as Altair's but he was still taller than myself, my forehead barely coming up to his beard. He looked down at the blade before at me, something in his dark eyes as he looked in my eyes. He moved his head at the blade, keeping his eyes on me, allowing me to pick it up.

Lifting the dagger, I feel its weight as gravity reminds me that it's still very much in control of earth. The white handle made of ivory, the feel is soft but sturdy under my fingers as I raised the blade to my eye. Setting the sharp metal on my hand, I spin it slowly, admiring the details of the weapon. It's gorgeous, wonderfully crafted. I smiled down at the blade before I set it back down, almost exactly as I found it. Malik whispered something, making me look up but he was staring at a blade instead, sadness in his eyes. He closed his eyes, lowering his head as his shoulders fell ever so slightly. "Kadar." My heart cried out for him. I knew of his pain, having been torn away from my youngest and dearest brother, but I couldn't comfort the man, it wasn't my place and it wasn't proper. Instead, I lowered my head as well and closed my eyes, the vision of my youngest brother danced in my head. My eyes began to sting, telling me that I would soon cry but I blinked them back. I can't be sad, not in a time like this.

The Dai looked back up at the blade before turning away, going back to the maps. I look at the blade he viewed, bowing and lower my head in respect before turning away too, but not to follow him, but to go to the cushions in the courtyard, where I can wait on Altair.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I don't own AC. Its property is rightfully owned by Ubisoft.

A/N: While doing some research on the Creed, the characters and whatnot, I learned Altair's fate, something I already knew but at the same time, I finally accepted it, even though I wasn't going to change it. There still isn't much dialogue in this chapter, it'll still be absent for a while. Sorry but I have this all in my head so hopefully it'll make sense.

I don't know how long I was asleep but I awoke to a hand on my covered shoulder. My eyes opened to see Altair looking down at me, his eyes watching me. I take a deep breath and stretch whatever I can, before sitting up, my shawl moving from my shoulders to fall around my lap. Who covered me up? I picked up the shawl and held it close, a chill running through me. Altair said something slowly, causing my eyes to turn to him while his were up to the heavens. The sky was already turning dark and I can hear the prayer leader calling out. Night had begun its fall and soon, the city will be dark and quiet. Already I can hear Malik in the bureau moving things around but I don't want to move to see what he's doing exactly.

Altair goes to one of the fountains in the courtyard and drinks the water before wiping his face. When I think he'll perform the prayer as well, he surprises me by drawing near me, offering his hand to me. I take it hesitantly as he pulls me up, letting me go and points to the door where Malik just called out. Walking into the bureau, my shawl wrapped around my shoulders, I see that Malik has prepared a set of cushions near the door to the back quarters. "Elisheba," he said, pointing to the cushions, indicating that I'm to sleep there for the night. I smile back at him, thankful that I'm sleeping inside and in between the two sleeping assassins.

"Elisheba?" Altair asks, tilting his head at Malik. Malik points at me, saying a few words before saying the name I gave him. The assassin then looks at me, "Elisheba?" I nod. He doesn't say anything, just regards me for a moment.

Malik grunts at Altair, waving his hand between Altair and myself, speaking quickly. Altair said something back, causing Malik to roll his eyes. The Dai goes to the assassin novice and smacks his chest with the back of his hand hard. "Altair ibn La-Ahad," he said, looking over at the assassin who had winced from the harsh contact, saying something else. It was probably the title he always referred Altair as, a novice.

I can tell that Altair is getting upset so I quickly step in. "Altair," I say, the foreign name sounding strange coming from me but I roll it off with ease, having practiced saying it before. "Altair ibn La-Ahad." Malik smiles at me while Altair just stares indifferent. "Malik."

"Malik Al-Sayf," the Dai says, giving me his full name. I know that his name means king or master while Al-Sayf means of swords, the geek in me looking up this information perhaps a month before hand, and to me, it doesn't truly fit him but if I had seen him when he had both arms, perhaps his name would have fit.

I nod, looking at Altair then at Malik, putting a hand to my chest. "Elisheba." I don't know any other Hebrew names so it's all I can give them until proper communication can be established, and then I can give them my real name and my reason for hiding it. I lower my gaze as Altair and Malik are talking, over what, I'll never know. Instead, I sit, rubbing my belly as it growls, trying to shush it. Malik stops talking and looks over at me, seeing my embarrassed flush. He looks over at Altair as well, saying some snide comment but the assassin says nothing, only narrows his eyes at the Dai.

The Dai rolls his eyes and leaves the bureau to go to the back quarters, leaving me with the assassin. "Elisheba," Altair says, making me turn to look at him. He then said something slowly looking at where my feet are. He then looks at me, or rather, at my eyes, staring at them as he takes a step further, his golden ones flashing. Is he using Eagle Vision on me again? I didn't ask, I couldn't ask, so instead, I merely took it in stride and looked away. I shouldn't really care how he views me, just that he stops staring so intently at me, it's making my stomach hurt.

The Dai had returned, his hand gripping a loaf of bread, a skin hanging on his arm. He held the bread out to me, motioning me to take it but I instead grabbed the skin, taking it off his only arm before retrieving the bread, nodding thanks as I went to sit where I was to sleep. Altair said a few things to Malik, the two talking quickly and quietly, the seriousness never leaving their eyes. The bread was hard and tough, probably two days old but still, it was filling. It was the first meal I've eaten since…since before my car accident. I lowered my bread as my shoulders began to shake, my eyes welling up with tears. When it happened, I knew that I wouldn't survive but now, I was scared.

I worried over my family. Would my mother find out that her only daughter was ripped away from her one morning, would she arrive at the scene as they're hauling away my corpse? My younger brother might break down for the first and only time then. He was so protective over me these past few years… By this time, tears were rolling down my face, and they probably would have stayed like that had I not sniffled. Both assassins turned to me, both with very curious looks on their faces. Malik turned to Altair and said something quickly, accusation in his voice. Altair, who was appalled by such treatment, retorted with a quick response of his own, waving a hand over me.

They were arguing over me, that was obvious but I ignored them, wiping away my tears, their antics ruining my depression beautifully. Even though I was thankful that my tears were gone, I still couldn't push this wave of fear and anxiety over my death. I put a hand to my head, my fingers burying themselves in my hair as my palm covered one eye. Glass would have been everywhere… I shook my head, my fingers running through my hair, finding a few knots along the way. I must look horrible. My hand finally out of my hair, I ate what I could of my bread, my hunger leaving as soon as my depression kicked in.

I went to curl up in the pillows Malik had provided me, my one comfort in this world. My feet curled under my skirt, my hands gripping a pillow tightly as I closed my eyes. The images that passed through my head, behind my eyes, I could see the truck draw near, see the driver lose control. The assassins had taken note of my turning in, their voices hushed and low. Sleep came to me uneasily, when Malik and Altair finally turned in did I finally sleep.

-.-.-

I don't know what woke me, maybe it was footsteps near my head, the moon shining her light in my eyes or the heat of the person drawing close. I was cold, the desert night was much colder than I expected. I tucked my hands under the pillow I was using to rest my head, the cool fabric becoming warm with my skin. A hand rested itself on my shoulder, the warmth spreading to my back and arms. Goosebumps rose, giving me chills as I drew my legs close, the rusting of fabric telling me I was covered. A warm blanket was laid across me before the hand began to pet my hair away from my face. I nuzzled the pillow, the corners of my mouth twitching. "Mm, thank you," I slurred, not even sure if it was clear enough to be understood but I didn't care. The hand stilled at my words but a soft breath returned the pets as I drifted off again.

-.-.-

The sun rose and with it, the calls of the prayer leader, waking me up. I groaned and covered my head. Footsteps and shuffling made me sit up, the pillow now clutched to my chest as I looked around the room. I slowly began to recognize things around the room before relaxing and falling back onto the pillows. A deep voice tilted my head to at the counter Malik was currently leaning on, his dark eyes regarding me. I blinked once, twice, smiled and then covered my face again, embarrassed by my action. Another deep voice echoed from the courtyard as I heard footsteps walking in the bureau. I peeked out from under the pillow, watching as Altair fixed his bracer, his eyes on me the whole time. I suddenly felt childish for hiding. Sitting up, I stretched my arms up and out, a whine passing through my lips before I gave a satisfied moan.

My toes pointed as I bent at my waist, my fingers gripping the bottom of my feet as my forehead touched my knees, my back stretching comfortably as my legs burned with the familiar pain. Sighing again, I drew my knees close, my arms wrapped around them as I looked up at Altair, his face indifferent. Malik said something, snapping the assassin's attention from me. The two spoke quickly, Malik drawing out the tome, opening it to a page and began to write in it. Altair's speech was strong, confidence filled every word, his stance proud.

The Dai nodded reaching behind the counter and drawing a white feather. I drew a sharp breath, watching as Altair tucked the feather in his armor. Killing, death. Killing in a video game was easy, quick, you weren't the one dirtying your hands, blood covering your clothes and you weren't the one getting hurt, however, this quickly became real to me as Altair tested his hidden blade, the cold metal gleaming in the morning light. I drew my legs near, trying to make myself as small as possible. To see the lights dim in a man's eyes as his blood begins to pool around him, it scared me.

The two didn't say anything to me, nor did they look my way. Still, as Altair left, I stood as well, my eyes on the ground. Only then did the assassin look my way, his eyes narrowing before holding a hand up, telling me to stay put. I let out a breath of relief and nod, my hand to my chest as my heart steadied itself. The assassin left without another word, leaving me with the Dai once more. Malik and I exchanged a glance before I left for the courtyard, going to one of the fountains, the water pulling me in. Cupping my hand, I let the water fill my palm before rubbing the cool liquid up my arm, the other hand doing the same. The fine layer of dirt that had covered my skin began to run down my arms in the water that ran down. My hands washed away any dirt that I may have missed, my skin turning from a dusty brown to the olive green I knew. Cupping my hands together, I splashed water on my face, wiping away the drops that fell from my chin. Since having no mirror I couldn't tell if I had gotten all of the dirt but trusted myself as I grabbed a rag and dried my face.

I wish there was a pool of water or a pond somewhere, I could bathe myself in it, get rid of all this dust but since I'm trapped in this desert, I can't. Sighing, I went to the cushions Altair rested on, wanting to straighten them up somehow. Malik made a scoffing noise as footsteps were heard on the rooftop. Altair couldn't have returned that soon. "Elisheba," he said softly, his voice pulling me back in. I quickly walked inside, grabbing my shawl from where I had slept and wrapped it around my shoulders, my hand holding the shawl tightly.

Another assassin, one with a lower face mask, approached the counter where Malik waited, his head bowed. He said something gently, his head rising up as Malik answered. The two spoke as the assassin's eyes turned to me, his head following as his speech slowed. Malik looked over at me then the assassin, his hand smacking the counter, drawing the other's attention away. The Dai said something, his tone of voice harsh. My guess, an order to pay attention and not let me distract him because the masked assassin was now hanging on to the Dai's every word.

I tuned the two out at that point, not really caring. My attention was drawn to the wall of books. If I knew the language, maybe I could read some of the books to keep myself entertained. Doubtful if I'd be allowed to touch them considering my gender. Sighing, I sat down on the cushions, drawing my knees to my chest as my arms wrapped around them, the shawl falling off my head and from my shoulders. The assassins both looked at me, one simply because I was in his line of sight, the other out of curiosity. Looking up, I knew that the masked assassin would stare a little longer. The Dai finished what he was saying before handing the assassin a feather, an indifferent look on his face.

The masked man took it, his eyes on me still as the feather was tucked in his robes. I didn't really like the way that he was staring at me but I couldn't just tell him to go away. Still, the man didn't move closer to me, he instead looked at Malik, asking him a question. How do I know this? Because the end of his sentence went higher in the end. It always does this with a question. The Dai narrowed his eyes, turning deadly and serious as he answered, venom dripping off every word. The assassin took this as a sign and bowed his head, quickly leaving the bureau, not even bothering with the cushions and pillows.

Wow, when did Malik get to be scary? A little voice in the back of my head said, "when did he stop being scary?" Then reminded me that I was scared of him the previous day. I shook my head, ridding myself of these thoughts. I guess that Malik sort of grew on me. I knew he wouldn't always be terrifying in my mind but I didn't expect it to be this short.

The rest of the day passed by quickly, until we heard it, the bells. These didn't sound like the bells in time for the prayers, in fact, this sounded like…my head popped up as Malik rolled his eyes. Guards all around were shouting something, something that seemed very urgent and very disturbing. Altair assassinated his target; the Dai seemed very upset about this. I remember that in the game, Malik yelled at Altair before sending him to Masyaf. Almost on cue, footsteps were heard on the rooftop up ahead before a shadow covered the courtyard. Gracefully, Altair dropped down from the grate, tucking into a roll before standing and walking into the bureau.

Malik forced a smile, saying Altair's name and another sentence. His voice was oddly cheery. His hand was in the air from false excitement; it was starting to terrify me. Altair pulled out the feather from his armor, the white a now brilliant crimson, his voice deep and resonating. Malik nodded, walking from one end of the counter to the other, saying something with the disturbing tone of voice before facing Altair, his hand in the air as anger replaced the alien tone. This caused me to jump; I wasn't expecting the sudden change. His hand slammed on the counter as he roared at Altair, berating him as the assassin before him calmly answered. Malik shook his head, his tone of voice firm, finger pointing in accusation. Altair's voice rose in anger, growling out his words.

Malik threw a tome on the counter, dust coming from the impact of leather to wood, apparently not happy about the assassin. The two stared at each other, neither one wanting to back down. I could feel the hatred and pride and stubbornness of the two men before Malik grinned, speaking with triumph in his voice. Altair sighed and answered gently, as if testing the grounds while Malik had his back turned away from the assassin. Altair took this as his leave, going to the courtyard and sitting on the cushions. Looking from the Dai to the assassin, I sighed, upset at the two men. Standing, I grabbed the skin Malik gave me and went to Altair.

Gold eyes looked up at me, narrowing slightly. I held out the skin for him to take. He answered curtly, earning a call from inside the bureau from the Dai, to which he growled out an answer. Glaring up at me, Altair snatched the skin away, uncapping it before taking a few swigs. I backed away, my eyes lowered. I supposed Malik was watching because he said something, leaning against the doorway that leads to the bureau. The two looked at me, making me feel self-conscious as I tried to look away. The one armed Dai said something to Altair, his head nodding slightly. The assassin grunted, answering with a few words I caught. Masyaf and Al Mualim being two that I recognized, the rest still a jumbled mess to my ears.

Inside me, my fangirl is screaming. She began screaming the moment that I first saw Altair in person, even louder when he held me to fall from the roof but now this is out of excitement and fear. My inner fangirl is wondering if I'll be trained to be an assassin, if I could possibly stick around forever, hanging around Altair for the rest of my life. This is where my logical side kicks in. I'm scared to hurt another person unless I absolutely have to, I doubt that I COULD kill anyone, I can't even stand to see someone in pain much less dying. And I don't want to have my finger cut off! I like having all ten of my fingers, thank you very much. Besides, I'd probably fail my first mission IF I were to be an assassin.

Altair snaps me out of my concentration by saying the name I gave them, his eyes regarding me. His eyes were intense, I bet that I could feel them through the walls, if possible. Goosebumps rise on my arms from the thought as a chill ran up my spine. It was time to go, I knew that right away.

The assassin ran up one of the walls, his hands catching the edge of the ivy grate and pulled himself up, looking down at me as he reached his hand down to pull me up. Malik scoffed, scolding Altair as he handed me a skin instead. Altair stayed quiet as Malik pulled out a ladder. AHA! I knew it! I nodded, gripping my shawl in one hand. The Dai put his hand on my bare shoulder, saying something gently. I smile and nod to him, having no idea what he just said but having some clue. Climbing the ladder, I edged away from the grate, my feet together so I didn't show them what was under this dress.

Going to the ladder on the side of the building, I watched Altair drop to the road below, startling several of the civilians. I gasp as I cover my head and shoulders, careful not to show too much skin. The guards were pacing along the rooftops, keeping an eye out for someone, Altair most likely, but the assassin walked on, ignoring them. I knew he was worried but I was for him, even though it was a waste of my time that didn't matter, I was still worrying.

Reaching the gates, the guards stood with hands on the hilts of their swords, their eyes narrowed as they searched the crowds for anything suspicious while not letting anyone in or out, well, save for scholars. I knew that Altair could pass as one of them. That's when I grinned. He could walk away in the shadows, I could flirt my way out. Altair, however, had a different plan as he openly shoved a man into a stall, the men all around backing away. The guards on alert quickly came to the scene, speaking in harsh tones as they drew near. Altair gripped my elbow and pulled me along, getting through the now unguarded gate only to see another row of guards. It was without warning that he ripped away my shawl, keeping it in one hand and began yelling at me, anger in his voice and eyes.

What guards were around caught wind of his yelling, spotting me, a woman showing way too much skin and a man forcing me to cower with fear. Tears began to well in my eyes, I was helpless, trapped and scared. A guard stepped forward, his eyes on me the whole time as he began talking. Altair thrust me forward, causing me to stumble as I shook, trying to keep my eyes lowered. Two of the men looked at each other, hunger in their eyes, adding on to the fear that was already set by the assassin. The hooded assassin stepped forward, gripping my arm again, giving me more bruises to add to my collection he caused, saying something with authority in his voice.

The men chuckled and let us through, watching as the assassin pushed me along, grabbing a horse's bridle, walking to where an eagle flew overhead. When we were far enough away, he stopped, allowing me to fall to my knees. I knew that I looked pathetic but it was a very traumatic experience. In the midst of my sobs, he set my shawl back over my head, his hand resting on top. My tears slowly paused as I looked up, seeing that he wasn't looking at me. Was he guilty? I wiped my eyes and stood, my hands gripping onto the shawl and looked away.

"Elisheba," he said gently, looking at the horse then back at me. I've never been horseback riding, ever. Though my hand went to the beautiful Arabian horse's head, one hand cupping the horse's mouth as it lipped my hand, the other petting its nose, I kept my distant from the saddle. Granted, I've been around horses before, but separated by a fence, never actually ridden one before. He nodded to himself, climbing onto the saddle, a hand gripping the reins, another reaching out for me. I knew that there was no other way to Masyaf, so I put my faith in him, gripping his arm tightly as he pulled me up to sit behind him, side saddled because of my skirt. Quickly wrapping my arms around his middle, I braced myself for the horse's movements. I could already tell that this would be a long journey.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: If I owned Assassin's Creed, I'd probably say to all the fangirls "AHA! I OWN THIS!" but you're all lucky I don't.

A/N: That last chapter has to be one of the longest chapters I have EVER written. Maybe I've written more, I don't know, I just know that it took a lot out of me. Also, there really isn't a pairing in this fic, some implied but not "official."

The heat was making me pant, as if the assassin's body heat didn't add to it. Though the shawl gave me some relief as it shaded me, I felt like it wasn't enough. How does he go through with this? I looked down at my dress and narrowed my eyes at it. Black material, that's probably why I'm burning up so much. Still, the horse's steady rhythm was somewhat comforting. The horse's every breath resonated in my very core as its hooves pounded on the earth towards our location. The man I shared the horse with made no other movements, save for adjusting when he pulled me up or when the horse had to make a jump, one that he could have warned me about! My butt and legs were in some serious need of rest and relaxation, preferably off the horse. Still, we didn't have to walk there so that was always a plus.

We had passed by a small village, half a day away from Jerusalem, the people there staring up at the two of us but Altair said nothing, only urge the horse to move slower so no one would be run over. Resting my forehead against the man's back, I closed my eyes, trying to ignore whatever pain I was feeling. If I were back in Jerusalem, I'd be sitting comfortably on the cushions while Malik tidies whatever map he has out in front of him at the moment. I breath softly, thinking about the one armed Dai. It was without warning that my stomach decided to roar at me. I had not eaten since the night before and nothing the day before that, only having eaten the night before my accident, three days ago: a small sandwich with a handful of chips.

No doubt that Altair had heard my stomach rumble but he didn't make an attempt to hand me some bread or any type of food on him. Instead, he nudged the horse's sides with the heel of his foot to urge the beast forward. We were far from a village and I wasn't sure if one was up ahead, but I could smell water. I lifted my head up and inhaled. The water, it smelled so close, so clean but I couldn't see anything, save for sand, some grass and a few trees. Wait, vegetation signifies water. This made me smile, though I was sweating like mad, my skin yelling at me about the heat as my stomach rolled around uneasily. This heat was really starting to get to me. I frowned at my black dress, angry at the color and material. Wait, how was I supposed to know that I'd suddenly be in a video game based in the desert? It wasn't like I suddenly woke up and decided, "I'm going to find a way to be in 1191," it just happened that way.

The horse slowed to a walk, snuffling as if it knew that water was nearby. The poor beast was probably suffering from the weight of two people it had to bear. Finally, the edge of a pool formed in my line of sight, the blue waters sparkling, inviting me to partake it the liquid relief that would soon hit my stomach and cool off my hot skin. Already I could feel goosebumps rise as I think about the cold relief I'd soon feel. When we finally got to the oasis, I unwrapped my arms from Altair's middle and slid off the horse. The assassin climbed down from the saddle, pulling along the gentle animal to the waters by the reigns. He then went to a small saddle bag and pulled out what looked like dried meat, tossing me a thick chunk. He didn't eat anything, making me cautious but the way the horse acted around Altair, I quickly put together that he owned this horse.

I ripped a part of the meat with my teeth, chewing carefully as I watched the assassin grab a skin from the bag. I was confused about this but when I looked at the water, my heart fell. Floating near a fallen tree was the corpse of a bird. Polluted water. I remember seeing a survival show on the TV about something like this, that bacteria now thrived in the water, making it dangerous for consumption. The horse knew this as well I guess, seeing as it stayed away from the pool, staying near the shade of a tree. I guess that this oasis wasn't a complete let down, the shade was still wonderful and welcoming. Altair was content on sitting on a rock in the shade, a few feet from me. I suppose he wanted to keep as much distance as he could from me when given the chance. I frowned at this thought. It wasn't like I smelled. Sitting down, I huffed. The hooded assassin uncapped the skin, his head thrown back as he drank the water inside.

I watched him carefully, ripping another piece of the jerky. His Adam's apple bobbed with every swallow, the muscles in his throat working to let the water fall into his stomach. I smiled at this and looked to the sand, quickly tracing out what I saw. My artwork was minimal at best but I still try. My eyes looked back up as he lowered the skin, his eyes closed. The horse nickered quietly, the nose nudging his shoulder, making him turn his head as a hand went to the side of the horse's head, petting the fur.

The horse's ears twitched and turned, listening behind itself. Altair's head perked up as his eyes narrowed, intently listening as well. From my angle, I could see a small dust cloud in the distance growing larger, black figures in front of it. Riders. Standing, I gripped the meat in my hand tightly, my other pulling at the shawl around my head and shoulders. "Altair," I whispered, suddenly afraid as I counted the shadows. Six of them, it seemed, all of them coming closer and closer to the oasis. The assassin spoke quickly, letting the skin drop from his hand as he pulled the horse near himself.

Climbing onto the animal, he urged the horse forward to me. We both reached for each other, him to pull me up, me to grab onto him. By the time I wrapped my arms around Altair, my shawl and the jerky fell to the earth beneath us, I could already see the riders, all of them with swords. The first thought that came to my mind was that these men were in desperate need of a washing, all of them filthy and dirty. The second was that these men were coming closer to us.

I clung to Altair tightly, closing my eyes as the horse ran faster to get away from the men. An odd thought crossed my mind: why didn't Altair just jump down and take care of these fools? The answer was me. I'm defenseless and he did have a tendency to save anyone in trouble, namely helpless citizens being tormented by guards, at least, in the game that is. One of them shouted, the others calling back over the sounds of hooves pounding on the dirt below. I looked back, watching as one drew his sword, the one closest to us. When his horse's head was literately by my thigh, I closed my eyes tightly. "Altair!" I screamed. I don't know what happened next except that the horse moved a different direction.

Our combined weight was slowing down the already tired horse, it wouldn't be long until the men were on us. I think Altair knew that because he pulled my arms away with one hand and jumped off the horse. I quickly moved to the saddle and grabbed at the reigns, pulling them back to slow the horse down, but with the way my legs were, when the horse reared back, I fell off. In the dust, I could see Altair and one of the men fighting, their swords drawn and clashing together.

The man lunged suddenly but Altair dodged, his back towards the man as he spun, his sword slashing the man's back. It was a fatal blow, I remember that from the game. Three more came near, each drawing his sword from their scabbards. He made short work of one of them, the other two throwing taunts at him. You'd think that they'd realize they were no match once they saw their buddy get killed, but no, instead they stayed.

Two of the men on their horses still, drew near me, both of them yelling at Altair, that is, until they saw me. I gasped as one dropped down, trying to scurry away, closer to the fight but my dress made this difficult. It's always the dress's fault, I have to remember this! The man grabbed me, flipping me around as he held both of my shoulders, looking at me. He said something quietly, confusion on his face but still, he looked up at Altair and smirked. The other man had jumped down as well but he drew his sword and ran to where Altair was, yelling something loudly. In the background, I could hear the dying gurgles of the men as the assassin killed them. I don't know what exactly happened next, except that there weren't any more noises coming from the men, just footsteps coming close.

The man holding me however looked over my head, his dark eyes wide in fear and anger as he flipped me again, pressing my back against his chest as an arm wrapped around my middle, pinning my own to my sides. My captor said something to Altair, his voice sounding triumphant as he held me close, pulling me backwards as he walked closer to his horse. I'm surprised I'm not tripping over mine and his feet as I'm being pulled along. Altair said something, his eyes narrowing dangerously. The assassin is not happy about the man holding on to me and to be perfectly frank, neither am I. It was then that I knew the reason why.

I felt a slimy tongue trail up my neck, behind my ear. I felt his breath circle the shell of my ear before his voice filled it. I gagged, disgusted by not only what he did, but the fact that I'm now covered in human saliva. It's so nasty and thick and I gag again. I didn't have too much time to because his hand suddenly slipped into my dress and began to grope me. I squirm and gasp, a huge blush on my face as I struggle to get out of his grip but his fingers dig into my skin, hurting me. Altair gritted his teeth, I could see that he wanted to kill the man but didn't want to hurt me. I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I suddenly get a thought in my head, what am I, a character from an anime? I don't know how I did it but I elbowed the man in the gut from my struggling, the breath knocked out of him as he doubled over, taking me down with him. I screamed, panicking as our heads banged together before heard the sound of metal against flesh.

I stayed still as the man's breath slowly breathed out against my neck, not knowing exactly what I could and couldn't do. Could I possibly move away? Turning my head, I could feel warmth spreading to my upper back, coving my shoulder and part of my back. The man's eyes were wide, possibly from the impact I landed on him. I froze, waiting for him to move, to blink, but he never did. Three fingers grabbed one of my wrists and pulled gently. I looked up, seeing Altair staring down at me, curiosity in his eyes. I struggled to get out of the dead man's grasp, his hand was still inside my dress bodice and let me tell you this, while still in the process of dying, meaning all muscle functions, brainwaves, and things of the sort, muscles will spaz, so every time Altair would pull me closer, I'd gasp and freak out a little because a hand was squeezing where it should have never been.

Still, I was finally freed. I don't know, I felt, sort of empty, like I did something wrong. With tears still falling from my eyes, I knew I was a mess but at the same time, I didn't care, I instead was staring off into space. "Elisheba?" Oh, I'm still uncovered. I reach down to the dead man and search his person for something, a shawl, gold, anything. I was against killing but when it comes to survival, grave robbing may be my best option. When I had plucked the last off whatever shiny metal I could get off of my dead captor, I turned to raid the other bodies but Altair's hands stopped me. His hands were on my shoulders, shaking me carefully as he was bent looking down at me. "Elisheba!"

I looked up at him, our eyes meeting. Tears were falling freely from my eyes but Altair's hands gave me comfort. I lowered my head as he stood up straight, one of his hands leaving my shoulder before walking to go get the horse. I looked down to my prizes; in my hands were a few gold coins and what little jewelry I pried off his fingers. Looking to the corpses, I knew that they wouldn't have much on them, perhaps a bit more. Going to another, I stopped. His face was young, a beard just now appearing on his face. I put a hand to his face, his warmth still in him before death takes it as well. He couldn't be too much younger than myself and already, his life was cut short. Guilt hit me. This was my fault. If my stomach had not made a noise, we wouldn't have stopped at the oasis and ran into these raiders. I closed his eyes carefully, pulling a pouch from him, it filled with a few trinkets. Putting what I had taken from the other man, I lower the young man's eyelids and leave his body alone.

I stand and back away from the bodies, hearing hooves behind me. Without looking, I reached an arm up, feeling Altair take it as I was pulled up. I wrapped my arms around him, the pouch burning in my hand as I gripped it tightly. "Elisheba." I looked up at Altair as he hands me a tan piece of fabric from over his shoulder. Taking it, I wrapped myself in the fabric and rested my head against his back. A few breaths and the horse took off again, a hard gallop away from this place of death.

-.-.-

I suppose I fell asleep because I woke to Altair unwrapping my arms from his middle. Pulling away, I rubbed my eyes, one hand on his back to brace myself. Once sleep was out of my eyes, I looked at Altair but his face was in the direction of a tall tower. Guards were around the gates of the tower. I knew these from the game, these were viewpoints showing the environment around on the map. I looked back at Altair, my head tilted just a tic. Were we lost?

He moved the horse to where the guards couldn't see us before moving off the saddle. Putting a hand on the horse's shoulder, he looked up at me as I moved to grab the reigns. He pointed off to a grouping of small brushes not too far from our current location. I nodded and looked back at him, watching him pat the horse once before he rushed to the tower. I tapped my heel against the horse's side, moving the reigns close to me. Surprisingly, this worked. I've never ridden a horse before today so this was a huge achievement for me. I suddenly giggled at myself as I imagined some pop up saying I now have horseback riding skills or some stupid music.

Still, once we got to the trees, I pulled on the reigns to the right, moving right. This is so easy! Wait, wait, no. This isn't really easy, this horse is just that well trained. I felt incredibly stupid at that moment, that is, until I saw something jump off the tower. No doubt it was Altair performing the Leap of Faith. It looked exactly how it does in the game, a high jump with arms spread before falling and flipping to land in the hay pile below. Seeing it from a third person point of view in the game was pretty cool and all, considering you saw how high up he is and everything, but seeing it performed before your very eyes, it's almost terrifying. I gasped and put clutched the reigns tightly in my hand but he simply popped up from the hay as if to say "I'm okay!" Prick.

Still, the white donned assassin drew near, not even bothering to move me aside but got on the horse behind me, grabbing onto the reigns from my hands. I suddenly felt very self-conscious. A heavy blush was on my face as I wondered where to put my hands. However, that was fixed when I grabbed the saddle's horn. Granted, being in front was cooler because I got to see where we were going but it sucked. The horse trotted along to wherever we were going, snorting out the occasional snuff.

We were like this for the rest of the day and let me tell you, you can only get so far with seeing sand and the occasional brush or boulder or tower somewhere before you start searching for entertainment. What was mine? The details of Altair's bracer. I never noticed it before, it was just sort of there and now that it's literately right in front of me, I can observe it all I want. The curved etched metal was crafted for protection yet in the defense held some beauty. The sharp lines near the wrist, the metal designs on that one plate looking like a bunch of swords coming together, as if the image was helping the actual blade perform its task.

The next two plates were different, I had never seen something so bizarre and amazing but the last plate, the one closest to his elbow; it was if the plate had a heart on it. How odd that a bracer for a hidden blade has a heart on it. Of course, this was probably before they started using the heart pattern as a heart. Needless to say, I was quite perplexed and very confused by this but still, I couldn't say anything or that bracer would be the last thing I see.

Altair's hands slowly went close to me as he pulled on the reigns to make the horse stop. I looked up, seeing that the sky was already getting dark, which meant it would be nighttime and I seriously doubted that Altair traveled at night. Instead he stopped the horse close to a boulder, getting off the horse before looking up at me. I suppose he was waiting for me to do the same. I sighed and slipped off the saddle, my feet sending a sharp pain up my legs. I knew it, my legs got so used to being up that the moment I hit the ground, pain! Altair drew a knife and set it on the ground, blade in one direction before going to the saddle bags, and rummaged around in them.

Holding my shawl close, I could already feel the temperature drop significantly. Crossing my arms, I watched as Altair got together a bunch of dried sticks and set them up in a way before striking two stones together. Flint? A spark hit what tender was there and soon, the wood began to smoke and catch fire. To be honest, I wasn't really impressed, I did this with my little brother with his Boy Scout training. Still I stared into the fire, thankful for the heat, as if it wasn't hot during the day. Altair sat across me from, on the other side of the flames, his hand busy with his bracer. It was without warning that a flash went by me and the next thing I knew, there was a knife wobbling next to my foot with a scorpion being impaled. I raised my eyebrows and whistled. Okay, now I'm impressed.

The scorpion's tail went wild still, I knew it would until the spasms went away, until then, the tail lashed out, slowing down each time. Taking off one of my heels, I held it by the toe and set the sharp heel on the tail, trying to squish the end so that it would stop wildly attacking but the sand was too soft so all I did was entertain myself for a few moments. Altair however did nothing. As far as I could tell, he didn't have a single skin on him and he wasn't eating anything. Great. When the arachnid died, I pulled the knife out of the shiny black arachnid, the blade now messy with its guts. Gross.

Setting down the weapon, I looked back at the flames, well, more so, who was on the other side of the fire. The light from the fire gave his face an eerie glow to it, maybe it's because I had never seen him like this, with this lighting I mean. I turn back to the fire, my shawl fallen off of my head. Running my fingers through my hair, I'm disgusted by the feeling of not having it washed in, what was this, three days? No doubt I was beginning to smell, especially after today. It was so hot! I could imagine someone going "Really? YOU'RE IN A DESERT!" I'm pretty sure I would have snapped at them, probably smacked them as well.

Ugh, I can't sit like this, just staring into the flames. Huffing, I sat on the ground, curling up next to the fire. I wasn't necessarily tired, I was just bored. Closing my eyes, I moved the shawl to block the flame's light but to still keep me covered as I positioned my arms to be comfortable, well, as comfortable as one can get when on dirt and sand. Stupid assassin, not planning ahead.

-.-.-

Altair woke me up, putting a hand on my covered shoulder. I cracked an eye open and sighed. I hate getting up in the early mornings. Still a yawned and stretched, feeling something cool and smooth move against my arm. I gasped and quickly sat up, my shawl covering whatever it was that scared me. Whatever it was, it was moving around, but only slightly, almost as if it was curling up. Grabbing an edge, I ripped the shawl away but had to freeze from what I just saw. There, underneath my shawl, the thing that was under me, a snake. I froze, not really knowing what it would do. I didn't know what type it was, did it shoot venom like some snakes, would it suddenly lash out, I couldn't tell. I didn't know. The only thing I knew was that this snake was poisonous. Venomous snakes' pupils are slit, like a cat.

This snake coiled up, ready for a strike. From the corner of my eye, I could see Altair reach for a blade. I didn't know what because the snake lashed out, its fang uncurling in its mouth as it opened wide. But the assassin was faster. I had my eyes closed the moment the snake lunged forward and curled into a little ball, as if that'll stop a snake's bite. The bite never came.

I open my eyes and see a boot in front of me, brown and dirty. Of course, my eyes trail up to see white robes and Altair standing over me, almost quite literately with his sword drawn. I had to peek around him to see what had happened to the snake and once again, I'm impressed. He sliced the head off! I know Altair's fast and everything but I kid you not, this was wicked scary fast. I reached around him, picking up the cool flesh of the dead snake, the scales smooth and moved, almost like water. Without looking back at Altair, I head to the black spot that was once the fire, grabbed a stick and began poking inside. Thankfully there was a coal still red and hot. Blowing on it, I set some dried grasses and watch it set aflame once again.

The assassin gave me a weird look but said nothing, he just watched. Setting down the snake, I knew first thing had to come first. I stood and went to Altair, my hand going to his abdomen. He flinched and grabbed my wrist, raising it up as he gave me a hard look. Staring back, I narrowed my eyes, moving the newly acquired blade, making it obvious of my intensions. Honestly, if I wanted to seduce him, I'd try a different approach. He released my wrist, saying something in a low tone, his own eyes narrowed. I snorted and went back to the snake.

Skinning the snake proved to be somewhat difficult, the skin itself didn't want to be separated from the flesh. However, gutting and cleaning what I could of the snake was fairly easy. My grandfather had taught me, he being a man who only went into town once a month for flour and sugar. I learned to survive in swamps and forest around him, not the desert. But still, what I did learn, I could use here.

Wrapping the meat around a stick, I let it sit by the flames to cook while I tossed away everything else. Food brings rodents and rodents bring snakes and I've already had my near death experience with a snake, thanks. Of course, Altair just sat there, not willing to even budge to help. Typical male nature, just sitting on his ass and watches while a woman does all the work. I narrowed my eyes at him, but of course, he wasn't paying any attention, instead he was staring off into space, probably thinking of all sorts of ways to kill me.

The snake meat took longer to cook that I suspected but when it was black on some parts, I knew it would be done. I'd rather burn a meal and eat it knowing that it's cooked all the way than rather undercook and get sick later on in the day. No thank you, and with snake meat, I'm guessing it was like pork in the sense you NEVER have even a little bloody without getting some sort of illness or disease or something of the sort.

Ripping off a chunk, I held out the rest of the stick to the assassin in white. And just like a typical male, he gave me the look that said "I don't need your help." Prick! Still, after offering it to him a second time, he took it and began eating right away, not even bothering to say thank you or anything like that. I grunted before returning to my meal. Sure, it was a bit tough to chew but it has nutrients and protein so my body survives and it shuts up my stomach so I know Altair won't stab me in my sleep if my stomach should rumble. When finished with my meal, sand kicked onto the fire, banking the flames and killing the coals, I was pulled back onto the horse, same way that I was before, sitting in front of Altair with my hands on the saddle horn. It wasn't an uncomfortable position, it was just awkward.

Still, with little urging from the horse, we moved forward towards our destination. I gripped my shawl tightly with one hand, hiding my eyes from the light as I turned my head away and close my eyes. Food in my belly, and a boring ride to Masyaf, I was going to be bored. The gentle rocking of the horse began to lull me to sleep and I have to admit, having a body nearby was comforting, even if it was an assassin. This heat would be unbearable soon, I could already tell. I sighed and wiggled my toes, tucking one of my feet behind the other. That's when I gasped and looked down, noticing my shoes were missing. How could they be missing? They were by my feet when I went to sleep!

Altair must have moved them away from me, but what happened to them afterwards? "Altair?" I looked up, pointing down at my feet. He looked down at where my finger was pointing to, catching at my unspoken question. He gestured to behind us, his eyes returning to look in front of the horse. They were behind us? I frowned, trying to understand what had happened. They were definitely on my feet when I slept. There wasn't much he could do with them. Wait… I groaned and glared up at the assassin. He burnt my shoes! The jerk actually burnt my shoes! Huffing, I crossed my arms, angry at the assassin I was sharing a horse with. He didn't have the right to burn my shoes. Though I have to admit, they were painful on my feet after a while, they were my only source of protection against the hot ground not to mention whatever animals may come out and attack.

I suppose I shouldn't be upset with him too much, after all, he could very well kill me. I sighed and closed my eyes again, relaxing from my moment of anger against the dangerous man. Altair didn't seem to notice this though, his eyes stayed on the trail. Maybe this was a good thing. It doesn't really matter to me, I'm kind of glad that my heels were destroyed, that's one last thing I have to explain, should there ever be communication between the two of us.

What I didn't know was that I had fallen asleep, leaning against Altair, with my fingers curled on his robes. How do I know this? I woke up like it later on that day when he woke me up, a hand on my shoulder. He motioned into a small village we entered but I shrugged and returned my head to its temporary pillow. He never said anything nor did he move, he just urged the horse to continue on. I had fallen asleep again within the next thirty steps, the heat making me exhausted. I knew I was sweating and that pretty soon, I'd start to smell. Though at this point, I didn't care, I was tired and I was hot.

When Altair woke me up, yet again, he offered me a skin. I didn't realize that he had one on his person, since he never offered but it wasn't until after I looked behind us did I see a man counting something in his hand. Altair bought water? I unlidded the skin, drinking only a swallow before offering it to the assassin. He hesitated but took the skin anyways, taking a swallow of it as well before offering it back. I shook my head which he then shrugged at and put in a saddle bag.

That was our communication for that day but when night came, I was sure we'd get off the horse to let it sleep but instead, Altair pressed on as the skies darkened. Trouble hit me then. I needed to go, badly. I had gone at the Bureau, and was disgusted by it too, in a pot but that was the facility. However, I needed to go and I was in a desert with a man who I couldn't talk to, on a horse that I didn't know the gender to. "Altair," I said softly, looking up, my eyes were pleading as I crossed my legs. He grunted. "Altair." He grunted again, still not looking at me. "Altair ibn La-Ahad." He looked down at me, stopping the horse and said something, I'm guessing "what."

I pushed against his arm trapping me, thankfully he got the picture and let me down. I searched around for a good spot but of course, he slid down as well. I didn't mind I guess, it was fairly dark and I couldn't see too far ahead. However, this wasn't time for him to be a body guard. I pointed down at the ground, at the very spot he was standing on before turning to walk in a random direction. Of course, I peered over my shoulder and saw he was following me. I huffed and pointed at the spot again, this time raising my hand up as a halt. He did as told but looked at me oddly as I walked off.

I was thankful I didn't see any snakes or bugs near me but when I returned, I saw Altair back on the horse, waiting for me. I rolled my eyes but raised my hand for him to pull me up, thankfully though, I was behind him again, my arms wrapping around his middle. Once again, I fell asleep, but I was thankful I had my arms around him, of course my inner fangirl was screaming her head off but this also made me feel safer. Of course, I felt safe with him being behind me so I wouldn't fall or slip but I felt better if I held something. Before I slept, I nuzzled his robes, feeling him tense up and turn his head but I didn't do anything else so he relaxed as I drifted off.

-.-.-

Morning came and woke me up as I felt the horse jump over something. I gripped onto Altair tighter before rubbing my eyes from the sleep. The sun hasn't risen yet, it was just getting brighter though. I knew that Altair knew that I was up, but he didn't make a noise. I yawned and pressed my face, and I mean face, against his back, smelling the masculine smell of him. I have to say, apart from the body odor, I'm guessing he hadn't bathed in a while, his scent was comforting, relaxing and even though I was pressed up against him, my mind was telling me to stop, to think ahead. I closed my eyes and sighed, pulling away from Altair. I know his fate.

He looked back at him, though I couldn't see his face. We didn't say anything, instead he reached down, behind my legs, pulling out the skin and handed it to me, his face going back to the trail. Taking a swig, I put my hand to the bottom, feeling how much we had left before tapping his arm. He shook his head. Putting it back, I looked at the trail ahead, rocks becoming more and more visible. "Masyaf?"

Altair said something, something I didn't understand. He remembered this and looked back at me, a dull look in his eyes. He's tired, I can tell. He stayed up all night making sure we get to Masyaf. I pressed myself closer to him, my hands on his before I pry the reigns away, making sure the horse stopped first. He was confused by this as I pushed him off the horse, he landed gracefully. I moved up in the saddle, reaching down and patting the horse's neck. The well trained beast looked back at me. I silently promised that it'd get a well deserved rest soon before looking at Altair, motioning my head back. He got the picture and climbed on, his arms going around my waist as he set his head on my shoulder.

Smiling, I looked ahead as he pointed a finger before us. Keep going straight. I nodded and felt him put his hand back around my waist, his feet nudging the horse along. About a couple of steps along and I felt Altair relax against me, his breathing evening as he fell asleep. I looked back behind seeing the top of his hood. A soft smile graced my lips as I lifted my hand, slipped it under his hood, brushing past his ear and pet his head, his hair soft under my fingers. It was short under my fingers so at least it gave me some idea of what his hair looked like. He sighed in his sleep as I continued the motion, going to his neck as I rubbed it gently. My father had broken his neck before and would sometimes have trouble with it so I knew that what I was doing was comforting. The assassin's fingers twitched a few times, making me bite my lower lip to not giggle. I was extremely ticklish and his twitching wasn't helping.

The rest of the ride, save for him adjusting a few times and his constant twitching, was completely boring. Sand, sand, sand, sand, sand, sand, oh look, a rock! Seriously, boring. However, huge tall mountains came to my sight and I swallowed back a large knot that began at my throat, fear coming to me. The horse whinnied, its steps increasing in speed as it saw the familiar area. This was it, the greatest fortress in the Middle East known in this time period, Masyaf. I looked back, putting a hand to Altair's, his skin rough under my fingers. He had fighting hands, hands that had so much strength in them and yet, a certain softness, as if he was still holding onto some sort of innocence. "Altair," I said, my voice filled with worry. His head snapped up and looked at the soon to be fortress ahead of us.

"Masyaf." His voice was filled with a sense of pride as well as familiarity towards this place. It was his home, the place where he lived and trained at. Quickly taking the reins from me, he urged the horse into a run, the great beast huffing as it moved us closer and closer to the fortress of the assassins. My heart pounded with every step that it took. Soon, I'll be in front of the master of the assassin's, the one who trained both Altair and Malik: Al Mualim.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I don't own, if I did, Altair would be bare-chested a few times.

A/N: Okies, I take it back, THAT was the longest chapter I had ever written but get used to it, these chapters will get longer and longer as time progresses. Hopefully by the end, I'll still have your attention in all of this.

Entering the creviced area that was the entrance of Masyaf, Altair got off the horse before I slipped down, following him. I hissed in pain as my feet landed on rocks but this is what I get when I leave my shoes unattended around an assassin who burns them. Turning back to the horse, I put my hand to its flank and pet its side, thanking it for bearing us on such a long distance. The horse turned to me, its massive head nudging an arm. I smile and pet its nose, my hand on its chin, the other tickling around the nostrils.

"Elisheba." Altair caught my attention before motioning for us to go. I nod and follow him, my hand clutching my shawl tightly as we made our way inside the village, buildings of houses and some marketing stalls nearby. The village was so much bigger in person than it was in the game. I mean, don't get me wrong, I got lost more than a few times in the game but this was huge, bigger than I expected. I think Altair saw that I was gawking because he tugged at the shawl a little, pointing up to the tower than had Al Mualim in it, I knew that. We had passed by several people on our way there, some parting to make way for Altair while others would bow their heads in respect. Some looked at me but I lowered my eyes before they could continue to stare longer.

We were climbing uphill, my legs telling me so as they began to burn. I hadn't walked seriously like this in a good long time, or would it be ahead a couple hundred years? Past for me, future for everyone else. It was a bit confusing and distracted me for a while, that is, until an armed guard, one dressed as an assassin walked up to Altair, his eyes on me the whole time. The two were talking, Altair never looking away. The only thing I could thing about was that men were acting like wild animals, like in a pack, proving which one was stronger, tougher, better. I rolled my eyes but made no other movement. Once wrong move and I could find a blade in my neck, severing my spinal cord and ultimately killing me due to blood loss, lack of oxygen, and of course, the separation between my brain and the rest of my body. Joy.

Altair said something curtly to the other, the two staring at each other once more before the assassin snorted at Altair, a sneer on his face before mock bowing to him. He said something, waving on the dangerous man before looking at me, saying something to me as well. I felt like I should be insulted but since I didn't know what they were saying, I kept my face blank, as if I didn't care what he said to me. I guess this creeped him out because he muttered to Altair but of course, he ignored it, grabbing my elbow, once again, and pulled me along. It was until after we were out of that man's sight did I rip my arm away and glared at him.

I am not to be pulled along like some pack mule and I made this clear as I swatted his hand away. The two of us looked at each other for a while before he continued on his way. He may be stubborn, but I'm just as bad, if not worse. Still, I heard people whisper around us. Maybe that's why he continued on, so there wouldn't be rumors. But I shake my head and continue following him. I doubt that was the true reason, after all, he was still a novice and had rumors flying around about him all the time now ever since he was stripped of his rank in front of everyone. That had to be humiliating.

I was distracted once again by the lack of women in the area asking for coins. In the game, there's always a few women asking for coins, begging that she was sick and hungry or that she had family who was sick but there was a surprising lack of these leeches around. Perhaps they were such an annoyance that they were tossed out? I thought about that possibility while we turned a few corners, the ground leveling out a bit. Maybe they had enough to get by without pestering people? That was a high possibility.

I didn't notice but we entered a large open area, once I had looked up of course, the buildings all around were standing out as plain as day. We were stopped by an unhooded assassin, one who sneered at Altair. Altair said something and the two spoke, harsh words passing between the two. I sighed, not really having time for this as I continued on. I knew my way from here so I didn't need Altair's help. Besides, if I stay with the crowd, maybe I wouldn't stand out as much. Stone steps appeared before me, the large steps cobbled and cool to my feet. I twisted and turned from the crowd, trying not to bump into anyone, or for that matter, make any contact with them.

Guards were near the door and I knew I couldn't get in by myself so I had to wait for Altair. Thankfully though, he wasn't too far behind, I could see him walking up the steps, his face hard, I'm guessing from being told off by the other assassin. When he finally caught up, he gave me a hard stare and together, we neared the doorway entering into a large library, the only place where Altair meets up with Al Mualim in the game. One of the guards says something, only to be cut off by Altair, eyes narrowed dangerously as he snapped back. The man raised his hands in defense but the novice assassin wouldn't hear it, he instead grabbed my wrist and pulled me in behind him. The men posted inside the building had seen this and kept their mouths shut, each one looking at Altair.

When Altair let go of my wrist, I could see finger marks already. Thankfully I don't bruise easily. We walked up stairs, these stone steps cold under my feet, making my cringe but I don't show it as someone said something to Altair, his hand on his sword. That's what I've noticed around here: everyone is on edge and has their hands on their swords. I roll my eyes, thinking that a man has to grab onto something. A windowed door stood before me and I can see scantily clad women on the other side. The gardens were women stayed to help the assassins keep focus on everything else.

Barbaric. But I continue following Altair as he leads the way down a corridor before taking a right to be in front of a large desk, a huge viewing mirror behind it. Already, there is an older man who comes to the desk, both of his hands on the wooden surface as he faces Altair. He says something in a gentle tone as the novice assassin draws near. I stay near a bookshelf, out of the way so not to draw too much attention to myself but it's too late. The mismatched eyed man as already seen me but says nothing, just stands up straight, but hands behind his back as his voice beams with pride. He puts a hand to his chest, a soft smile on his lips before extending it to Altair.

Al Mualim's hand then extends a finger as his tone suddenly turns to an instructive one, as if he is still Altair's teacher. Altair bows his head, his eyes closed as he said something, chills down my spine as he speaks in a hushed tone. My inner fangirl swooned and melted but I stayed alert as Altair's master said something, the only thing I fully understood was Richard, a name I only know from the tale of Robin Hood, but he said this rolling the R, Acre and Jerusalem, each he said with a full accent. It would have been comical had I not actually been present and away from him, and I mean completely away from him, like hundreds of years ahead and half way around the globe. He then said Saladin's name; he I knew from history but not enough to say that I knew the man. Al Mualim's hand went to the table, pointing to the wood as if pointing on a map.

Altair asks something, his tone lighter, as if he wanted to do something eagerly. The bearded man shook his head, his hand rising to stop Altair's thoughts, his voice filled with a soft chiding. He steps close to a bookshelf, closer to me but he then turns to look at Altair, his hands moving with each word he speaks. Altair lowered his head just a tic and said something in a dark voice, it again sending shivers up my spine. Even if I didn't understand a single word he has said, he sends spine tingling sensations, it's almost criminal. Al Mualim nods and says a few things before spouting of names and cities: Acre, Jerusalem and Damascus. Altair asked another question, to which Al Mualim spills out another list, his hands now in the air as he says these things before facing Altair, instructing him still. Altair's voice echoes out in the library, darkness in his voice again. His master nods and waves his hand before the desk, saying something.

Another piece of Altair's equipment is returned to him, I understood that. The master goes to the bookshelf, moving something before three birds fly from the shelf to out the window. This scared me but neither man gave notice. I can tell that Al Mualim warns Altair about something, his eyes guarded as a parental fear enters his voice. He then turns from Altair and myself to look out the window, perhaps to watch the birds fly to their destinations. Going to the desk, Altair picks up gloves, his gauntlets before putting them on, interlacing his fingers and popping his knuckles as he stretched his arms out in front of him then checks around the elbows.

It was at that moment that Al Mualim decided to discuss about me. He and Altair looked at me before he motioned me to come close with his hand. He spoke in soft tones to me but I furrowed my eyebrows and looked away, unable to understand him. Altair said something, standing close to me, his hand on my shoulder before pulling down the shawl, removing it completely. Al Mualim's breath hitched as he looked at me before nodding his head. Altair then spoke in quick words, saying something but the only words I caught were Jerusalem and Malik. He then points to my feet, his tone of voice confused. The master then beckons me closer, looking down at my feet. I swear, I'm going to find a loofa and scrub this off as soon as I find somewhere to bathe. Still I rose my dress high enough to let the mark be seen, shocking the master before he looked up in my eyes, asking me a series of questions, to which Altair comes to my aide, saying something as he hands me my shawl. As my dress lowered, I saw Al Mualim reach into his desk, opening a drawer. My heart began to race as I knew exactly what it was he was reaching for.

Altair said something as I went and hid behind him, my fingers gripping his armor as his arm rose and met my side to make sure I was behind him. The master said nothing but barked an order, to which Altair stiffened, a deep intake a breath heard before he exhaled and lowered his head, saying something softly. "Altair," I whimper. I'm terrified of Al Mualim now that he has the Apple of Eden in his hand. Al Mualim picked up the Apple, speaking in soft tones to me as he raised the artifact high. It was without warning that the orb began to glow before flashing brightly. I gasped, covering my face with my arms as my shawl fell to the ground, holding my breath and turned away, scared of what may happen next. I wasn't sure if it was meant for an attack or merely to scare me but no one spoke. I turned back to the master of the Assassin's Order slowly, peeking out from in between my arms as the orb was place from where he drew it from, the light faded. I blinked a few times and lowered my arms, looking at Altair as he regarded me, curiosity in his eyes.

"Child," I heard. Holy cow, where did that come from? I saw Al Mualim looking at me, a soft look in his mismatched eyes. "Child, can you speak?"

My eyes went wide as I gasped. I can understand him! "You can speak English?" No, wait, that can't be right. I put my fingers to my lips, muttering quietly. "No, he probably doesn't know English." But instead, he taught me, using the Apple, Arabic.

Altair and his master looked at each other before their gaze returned to me. "You speak English?" the older man had asked. Shoot! "Why haven't you spoken it before?"

I lowered my head, fear hitting me hard. "I didn't want to die…" I wasn't lying here. I'm a woman in the Middle East not properly dressed and in front of the master of a highly dangerous assassin, the same master whom I've just told I speak English to.

"You wouldn't have been killed, not with our mark on you." Relief came to me like a wave. "The person who has marked you must have thought you trustworthy to know our secret." Now guilt was nagging at the back on my mind. "You're in our care now, child." He then held out his arms to me, stepping closer before they wrapped around my body, one hand to my head, petting my hair, the other to my upper back, comforting me like a father would. I closed my eyes, tears biting at them as I held onto his robes, his beard tickling my forehead. It was sometime later that we parted, his hand wiping away any tears that would have fallen. "Your name, child?"

I looked back at Altair before regarding his master. "I gave Altair and Malik the name Elisheba," I said, lowering my head. "But my real name is Elizabeth."

Altair took an intake of breath, having just found out about my lie. "Then, child, we will use the name you have given us. I, however, will use your birth name." Of course he would, and to be honest, I didn't really mind, the only ones who ever did was my family, a doctor or two and a teacher I had the utmost respect for, why shouldn't this man call me as such. "If you would, Altair, before returning to your quarters, escort her to the gardens, she should change into something a bit more comfortable." Comfortable? I look down, my hand to the embroidery. This was as comfortable as if I was nude, though granted, sitting down or even laying proved to be difficult but it was still a very comfortable dress. "Besides, such material shouldn't be destroyed."

Altair nods and looks at me; I know I'm in trouble. As we walk away, I can already feel the anger in Altair build. As we walk away from Al Mualim and head to the gardens where other women are, I begin to think of ways to stop Altair from killing me but nothing comes to mind except that I'm going to die. The two guards open the glass doors for us and we enter. I'm immediately overcome with the greenery and the humidity, almost relaxing at once but when Altair grabbed my elbow, he turned me around to face him. "You lied."

"I didn't lie, I just never told the truth. Besides, until just a few moments ago, I couldn't lie to you, I couldn't understand you or Malik. I only speak two languages and Arabic isn't one of them so sorry I gave you a false name but I'd rather stay alive than give you an English name and be labeled Templar." This was the most I had ever said to him and I think he's just as surprised as I am about this.

His golden eyes narrow. "How do you know about Templars?"

I slap his hand away, getting tired of the constant pressure of pain on my skin. "I know a lot more than you can imagine, Son of None," I said, my own eyes narrowing as I translate his name. I take a step away from him and look away. "I'm sorry," I whispered. He didn't say anything, just merely walked away. I'm tempted to follow him, but I stayed behind. He lowers himself down the stairs and walks out of the library, a man stopping him and asks if he can help the students understand swordsmanship. I roll my eyes and look at the gardens, just to see a girl hug me tightly.

It was as if I was suddenly a deer with all these wolves around me, they all swarmed. "A new girl, perhaps you'll be useful and stay or if not, well, perhaps you'll make a decent wife for someone," one woman said, her clothes barely covering her skin.

The girl hugging me, she had to be younger than me, close to fifteen, pouted and let me go. "She came in with Altair, didn't you see?" She was young, even her voice betrayed her age.

"You mean the same man who defied Master's orders and found himself stripped of his rank? Please, if anything, she followed him around like a lost puppy," another said.

At this point, I felt like this was enough chit chat and stomped a foot, not that it made any difference. "Excuse me but talking about someone as if they weren't here is extremely rude and I didn't follow him, he brought me here."

The women looked at each other, many breaking away, saying a few comments about me while others started discussing something else entirely. I can't stand chatty women, aggravates me to no end. One of the catty women crossed her arms, her breasts rising higher due to this. "Where did he find you then?"

I glare. "Jerusalem. I was in Jerusalem when he found me, he then saw my mark and took me to see Malik and a day later, I'm on my way with him to come here to see Al Mualim," I said, my hands in fists.

"Mark?" the young girl asked.

"On the inside of my right ankle." She then lifts my dress to see it, crouching down to get a better look. "See?"

"Wow, whoever did this made sure that you'd stay safe. No one dare harms anyone bearing this." She was about to lower my dress when she looked up at me. "You're lucky."

I pull away. "Lucky I'm not dead." She lowers my dress, thankfully, and I bend to straighten it, as if that would help since it was so dusty and dirty and full of wrinkles.

The girl stands, watching me straighten up. "Where did you get the dress? The stitches are so fine, it's almost as if they weren't made by hand."

"I bought it," I said, smirking. Of course the stitches weren't made by hand; machine was the only thing I knew of that could make this tight of a stitch.

The women who were still around me had gasped and circled me. "The white doesn't go all the way around the back." "Look how it shows her skin." "The design is something I've never seen before." Ugh, gaggle of women talking about clothes, boring.

One looks at me, her soft brown eyes reminding me of a doe. "You must have been very wealthy before Altair found you. And you bear their mark so you were someone of great importance."

"A daughter of a rich merchant? Or maybe the intended of an ally?" The women spoke more before the girl looked over my shoulder, a happy smile on her face. It was at that moment that they left me to talk to someone else, a hooded man who just arrived. I rolled my eyes and stepped down the stairs, walking further as I followed tiles to a full courtyard. I could see mountains in the distance, many women near the edge of these gardens talking.

My feet dipped into the small water décor and at once, I was grateful. However, I continued my way down until I myself was at the bottom, facing the outside world. The mountains were so beautiful, almost as if they weren't real. "It's you." I turned, my eyes wide as I recognized the speaker. The masked assassin from Jerusalem. "I thought it was you, your dress gave you away."

"You," I whispered.

The masked assassin laughed, his hand lowering his lower face mask. He had a kind face, a strong jaw and soft lips. He was maybe a year or two older than myself. "I'm Ibraheem. I apologize for earlier, I was surprised that Malik had a woman in his bureau, he's always so…"

As he struggled to find a word, I found one for him. "Tight-assed?"

Ibraheem's eyes went wide but a playful smile graced his lips. "That's a good word."

I shrugged and looked away. "I find that hard to believe, he was kind to me." Thinking about the one armed Dai, I smiled softly, feeling a light blush rise in my cheeks.

The assassin laughed, leaning against the railing as I once had. "Kind? Then you must have seduced him for him to act so for he isn't. He isn't kind to anyone, save for one person, and that person had passed due to the blade of a Templar."

"Kadar." He looked over at me, his eyes filled with worry, fear and curiosity. "He had said that name in the bureau when looking at a blade. I'm guessing that's the person he was kind to?" I hated this, this constant lying, but I knew that there would be a time to let everything out into the open, it just wasn't now.

Ibraheem nodded, looking back out to the scenery. "His young brother." He then looked at me, dark eyes cold and filled with hate. "It was Altair's fault that the boy is dead. Had Altair listened to Malik, the Dai would still have two arms and capable of carrying out tasks rather than sitting behind a desk and his brother would still be alive!"

I backed away. What gentle I saw was gone, it was obviously a front. On my guard, now that I knew the language, I braced myself for anything. "Then you would not be here talking to me. You would have never known I existed had it not been for this folly."

He growled out, a hand on his sword. "He had someone killed!" This man was beginning to lose his temper, quickly too. It didn't make sense to me, assassins were supposed to be calm and collected, otherwise end up with the same fate as Altair, a man ripped of title and rank, fighting to earn it back.

"Isn't that an assassin's job though?" This made him snap, his sword drawn as he swiped at me. I was thankful I had taken a few steps back or his sword would have met my gut and I would lie dying at his feet. However, when he saw this, he roared out, and stepped towards me, his arm raised to try and slice me again. I didn't let this happen. Gathering my skirt in one hand, I turned tail and ran away, scaring many of the women. I could hear his footsteps behind me getting closer but I heard more, lighter footsteps. I turned to see that the women of the gardens had begun to hold Ibraheem back, his anger over powering them slightly as he stepped closer to me.

This has to end. I went to him, punching him in the gut before prying his fingers away from his sword. When he fell out of breath and doubled over I took his sword from his hand and held it out in front of me. Oh great, what do I do, what do I do? I've never been taught swordsmanship, I don't even know the first thing about it. When his breath returned, Ibraheem threw the women off of him and stood, drawing his short blade and rushed to me, crying out as he did.

I closed my eyes, put my hand to the flat of the blade and held this out in front of me. A large noise made me look up as I saw that the knife was stopped by the sword but Ibraheem lunged at me, his hand ready to grip my throat. I wanted to step back, I really did, but I stumbled, his hand grabbing his target as I dropped the sword, gripping his arm trying to break away. I suddenly thought of what my father taught me but when I tried to put this into practice, it didn't work, fear now gripping me hard as did his fingers.

He raised his short blade high in the air, his eyes crazed before pulling it down at full force. I closed my eyes, ready to accept death this time, but it never came. Instead, he was held back by a man, another assassin as another began to pry his hand loose from my neck. When finally free, I backed away as fast as I could before doubling over and coughed. The two men were yelling at Ibraheem as they began to haul him away. The women kept their distance from me, even the girl. Doesn't matter to me, I didn't want anything to do with this place.

I knew I'd have to face this place once again, but I knew it would be a while before then. Leaving the gardens, I saw that Al Mualim was now scolding Ibraheem. This gave me a good opportunity to escape, had someone not grabbed my arm. I turn to look, seeing that it was a woman, not one I had seen in the gardens, but someone different. She bowed to me and beckoned me to follow her. Leaving the library, I found myself in front of a training ring. I had seen this walking in and in the game so it was to no surprise. However, inside were two men, one of them Altair, the other a novice, he was without a hood and some of his armor.

I saw the novice reach for Altair, his hand fisting the robes and armor, pulling him closer but Altair's hand swung down, gripping the student's wrist, breaking contact before swinging the novice around and kicked his back, pushing him forward. I knew he wasn't using all of his strength in this, the novice only stumbled a few steps. The teacher of the ring nodded, fully dressed as an assassin, save for a few missing weapons. His hood, sleeves, and legs were gray but the robe was the very white that was the assassins. They went on like this a few more times before the teacher was satisfied by the results. "And that, my students, is how we all should fight."

Altair left the ring, jumping out before going to the instructor. "Ra'uf, you train them well," he said, looking back at the novices now trying the same technique that Altair had performed moments ago.

Ra'uf nodded, I saw his stature straighten a little, with pride. "I hope that one day they will be as strong as you." Altair's lips lifted a little but hid it with a nod. "You are tired, my friend, perhaps you are in need of rest." Ra'uf, he was so calm and polite, he just felt like someone to be trusted. Normally, at this point, Altair would have snapped at someone when ordered around but he nodded, patting the instructor on the back and walked away. "Safety and peace, Altair."

"Upon you as well, brother." Altair spotted me and the woman but made no further steps towards us, he instead motioned his head. I looked to the woman who nodded and waved me on before going to Altair. The two of us didn't say anything as we walked away from the ring and library, almost as if I still couldn't speak the language. We passed by a few armed assassins, well, more actually, most bowing in respect of Altair, others sneering. When we were cleared of people, somewhat, he turned to me. "You're to stay here while I carry out my task."

I cross my arms. "So eager for you to reclaim your former glory, I suppose. The title of Master Assassin will be yours again soon." Prick.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes staring at me coolly. "You are a soothsayer?"

I snorted. "Hardly. It's as I said earlier, I know more than you can imagine," I said this softly. I knew so much about this game, about the history of some of the people here, the fate of so many around and yet, one word of any of it and I may unravel history. But perhaps, with just my presence here, perhaps I can change some of the courses of events. I wrap my arms around myself and look away. Altair says nothing but turns back to continue walking, only stopping to see if I was following. He did this once before, back in Jerusalem, which reminds me... "Why did you burn my shoes?"

Altair turns around. "What?"

"My shoes, you burnt them. I want to know why." I'm still angry about this but now that we can talk to each other, I'm determined to find out why he did what he did. "They may not have been comfortable or even practical but they were my shoes!"

Altair rolled his eyes. "We needed tinder for the flame."

"So you burnt them, without asking me?" I practically screamed out, thoroughly pissed at what he's done. "They were still mine and even though they hurt like a bitch, it gave you no right to toss them away. Why didn't you just use your things instead of mine?" The assassin didn't say anything, just looked away, his hands in fists. "I know I'm not going to get an apology out of you, you're too stuck up on yourself to even acknowledge the fact that you messed up. I get it, I do, your pride is more important."

I stomp past him, not knowing where I was going, but wanting to be away from him, even if I couldn't really escape him. Al Mualim would make sure that I stuck to the assassin like glue, even if the man did piss me off. Walking to the village, I knew that people were looking at me, my dress showing my skin, my head uncovered and my head held high. No one spoke to me though, some parted ways for me to pass, others simply ignored me. That didn't matter, I just had to get away from the scarred assassin.

From a cliff, I could see fields of tall brown grass and figures moving around in it; villagers were walking around to wherever they were heading, some stopping to buy a few things from some stalls, others to talk to family or friends. Their lives were so filled and they honestly seemed to be happy about their lives, even though it was during the Third Crusade and that any moment, Templars or the Anglos will enter their lives. I sighed, deciding to move close to the fields, I just have to keep in mind where I was going exactly.

I had passed by several merchants, all of them crying out for any to buy their wares. Children ran by, laughing before turning around, chasing each other before one crouched behind a barrel, waiting to strike until a friend jumped out where the boy reached out for them darkness, his palm against the child's neck before laughing. They were imitating those who trained here, the assassins. I smiled. Even then, kids were playing Cops and Robbers, or would it be Assassin and Templars? How young were they before they were taken from their families to be trained assassin, each ready to give their lives for the good of others? I probably would never know this answer.

Looking at the fields, I could see a group of boys, probably eight to ten years old, fighting each other. Blocking, kicking, punching, all the while a tall hooded man was walking around. He'd watch them before stopping a pair, fixing their stature or stance and then have them continue on. These boys were in training, they were already able to toss others off of them, able to punch and pin without any difficulty. These boys would soon be men and be out in the world performing the tasks that Al Maulim gives them, to go out and spill the blood of those who are corrupt and need to be punished, to fight against the Templars and to gain and earn respect in the Brotherhood.

Were Altair and Malik like these boys? Were they part of those hoping to earn rank and honor as children? I shook my head, of course they were, were they not assassins, ready to strike and kill at a moment's notice. They were highly skilled men, ready to fight and kill to defend the people, their Creed, and each other; masters of the sword and blade. Every time I think of them, I think of all the blood they have spilt, how many lives were lost on both sides, how many novices were sent out on their first mission but never returned.

The dangers of being an assassin, something I hoped I would never have to deal with. The wind blew, my hair and dress moving with each gust, reminding me of where I was. It would be at any moment that I could die, even if I wasn't from this time, this place. I held myself and looked away as I turned, seeing the river that ran close to Masyaf, that many of the horses were there getting a drink, lead by those who properly stabled the gentle beasts. I watched all that went around me long before I really knew why I was down here, in the village before the great fortress. Did I really walk so far without realizing it? I must be more upset than I had originally thought.

I wasn't sure what time it was, there weren't any song of prayer ringing through the air to really tell me the time. Was that only in Damascus and Jerusalem since Acre was controlled by Anglos? In Masyaf, there weren't any mosques, any churches, or synagogue. A religious freedom. Sitting on a rock near the river, I heard many of the horses whiskering to themselves as the men who were leading them whispered to each other, I only caught a few words as I dipped my feet in the freezing waters. It was just like a pool, I reminded myself. All water, unless properly heated, was freezing and the only way it would get warmer is as if the body adjusts, adapts. Maybe I'll learn to adapt to this place before I can get home. I paused in my thought. I had never thought about returning home, I just assumed that I would be here forever. What a ridiculous thought, I can't stay here forever, I have to find a way home, what if I wasn't dead yet? What if I'm merely in a coma? Was there a way for me to be alive in my world, the real world outside of this game?

"You shouldn't be out here," I heard. I knew who said it so I didn't bother turning around.

"Aren't you supposed to be resting?" I asked, a small headache forming in the front of my head. "After all, you said that we're only staying for two days. Al Mualim will expect you to be in pique form to assassinate your next targets."

He stood by me, keeping his distance. "I will sleep tonight, when there is time to rest, for now, however, there is time to be doing training and I cannot do that with you near the river. My master would strip me of my rank more if you were to be harmed."

I snorted. "I find that hard to believe." I drew my feet out of the water and stood. "I need new clothes, I can't wear this forever. Sooner or later the stitching will come undone and I'd rather keep this dress in the shape that it's in, thank you. It cost me a lot of money and I'd rather not have it destroyed," I said, looking at him.

He regarded my dress before looking at the river. "You can get one of the dresses from the women of the garden."

"Yeah, no, I'd rather be in pants and a shirt. Do you know how hard it is to move in this? And sitting sidesaddle on a horse seriously hurt." He gave me an incredulous look. "What? You don't believe me? How about this, we'll find you a dress while I walk around in your clothes?" He frowned. "Besides, I'm a lot more comfortable in pants anyways, let's me move about and I don't have to worry about anyone looking up the skirt from the grating of the bureaus, thank you."

"I didn't look up your dress," he said quickly, defending himself as if I was accusing him.

I let out a breath of relief. "That's good to know, at least I'm not traveling with a pervert."

He looked at me with a confused look on his face. "Traveling? You are not coming with me," he said, his hand slicing the air horizontally to say make his point.

If he wanted to play this game, fine, I'll play along. "Excuse me but you not only gave me bruises, you basically stripped me bare in front of the guards of Jerusalem, you burnt my shoes and now you claim I'm not coming with you? I'd like to see you try to stop me," I challenged.

"I saved your life." I didn't see this one coming, but then again, I should have. "I could have let those raiders steal you away, did what they wanted with you, then finish you off or sell you to the highest bidder."

"And I thank you for that, along with the scorpion and snake, however, I am going to travel with you. I won't stop you on your missions, nor will I be helping. If anything, this may give me answers as to why I'm here."

Altair gave this some thought, I could see him think about it before he finally gave in. "You compromise my mission and you're right back here and staying here." I nodded. His terms seemed fair enough, the only thing I had to worry about now was what I was going to do while stuck in Acre and Damascus. I could hang around Malik in Jerusalem, he and I seemed to get along pretty well, so maybe the other rafiks will be just as kind.

-.-.-

Inside the fortress, inside one of the many sleeping quarters that Altair led me to, I was beginning to miss the cushions in Malik's bureau. Sure, the beds were nice but they were stuffed with hay, not sewn together well and they were probably infested with bugs and who knows what else and the blankets smelled so bad, I gagged. The room was empty, had been for weeks, one of the assassins who was staying had been relocated to Damascus, leaving it empty. "Remind me again why I'm here."

"You refused to go back in the gardens even though the women who stay here must sleep in the gardens." Nodding, it made some sense to me, yet the other half was screaming at my stupidity. The cushions there would be properly put together, would have been aired out and I wouldn't have to worry about bugs or mice or anything that might come seeking for food, namely, hay! But then there was the fear of Ibraheem attacking me in my sleep. "You are a very strange woman."

I smiled at that. "I'm a strange combination of a woman and a child. I'm still young to imitate a child but old enough to know what it means to be an adult. I'll probably stay like this for a while." Searching the room, mostly the trunks, I failed to find what I was looking for, though I have to admit, the details of the wood is very gorgeous and extremely delicately carved. Of course, I paused. "Just why are you here, hanging around me, I mean. Don't you have training to do?"

"Ra'uf won't be needing me to help out with his students and there is no one to properly spar with," he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the door way. "What is it you are searching for?"

"Pants," I said quickly.

"…Why?"

Rolling my eyes, I stood up from my position in front of an open truck, hoping I might find clothes in the many folds of blankets but no luck. "I already gave you my reasons."

I don't think my reasons where enough though. He promptly shot off with, "So, you would rather be mistaken for a boy and would most likely get yourself killed for disguising your gender?" I saw faint traces of a smirk on his face, amusement in his gold eyes. "Or perhaps it is for a different reason, in hopes of getting close to someone."

"Close enough to kill, you mean? No, I'm not a murderer, I couldn't kill someone on just cause. I'm no assassin, I'm not a poisoner, and I am no seductress. I just wish for pants so I can walk around comfortably. Besides, I'm not the only woman in this world who disguises herself as a man." I stopped moving after that. He hasn't… SHIT! He didn't catch on though, looking very confused at my statement. I looked away from him, silently berating myself. "Where can I find them?" I asked, changing the subject.

He looked to the right of him, looking down the hall. "There should be some discarded in one of the unused rooms," he said, looking as if he was trying to remember which rooms exactly.

Being inside the fortress, well, the dormitories of the assassins really, was mind blowing. In the game, there is no night, only day, there's only the hiccups the Animus gives when passing from one town to another or if the game needs to load a map. Usually, one doesn't think about night and day in the game because it's always daylight. It's almost a scary thought to think of Altair as being human…

WAIT! What am I thinking? I'm inside a VIDEO GAME! But then there is the thought about what has happened: I've eaten, drank, slept, I even got molested and hurt. It all feels real, looks real, it's as if this wasn't a game, just merely the past…but that doesn't make since unless there was someone who actually wrote everything down, word for word, movement by movement, and then gave it to game developers and said "Here, make it a game." That's not possible…right?

Without warning, I was assassin-less, Altair suddenly leaving to enter one of the rooms, one he knocked once with and, not waiting for an answer, barged right on in. Prick, no sense of privacy or manners or anything of the sort. I sighed and went to the trunk again, pulling out blankets and stacking them on the bed. They were thick too, to keep the body warm during the desert nights, each one drab and colorless. I supposed they should be, the rooms were bare of anything personal so why should the blankets be decorative? Something glinted from the bottom of the trunk.

Moving aside a cushion, my finger pricked itself against the point of whatever this was. Hissing, I drew my finger away, sucking away the blood before being very careful at moving the cushion. What was underneath it surprised me. A blade, eight inches from tip to handle, the holt small enough to fit one of my hands but the design of the handle, the etching in the metal, it seemed very familiar. I set this down next to my foot before putting everything back into the trunk, finding not a single stitch of clothing anywhere.

A throat being cleared made me look up. Altair had returned and was holding something brown in his hand. "Smallest I could find for someone of your height."

"I'm only a size 5," I said, catching the fabric that was tossed my way. He tilted his head at my statement but I ignored him, putting the waist of the pants against my hips before looking down at the legs. "They look long enough but the question isn't the length but if it'll fit," I muttered. I'm so thankful I work, worked, in retail where alterations were needed and I was suddenly upset. My mother used to make alterations to my own clothes all the time. This made me lower the pants and my shoulders. "Thank you, Altair."

"Al Mualim would not be pleased with you following me, wearing a man's clothes," he warned.

I snapped my eyes up at him. Someone once said that I looked extremely creepy like that, this, however, went unnoticed by Altair. "He is neither my father, nor my master so I really don't care if he's pleased or not." I saw Altair's jaw tense, his eyes turning hard before he walked away. I felt guilty for saying this and went to apologize but he was already so many steps ahead of me, and with how he is, it wouldn't be safe for me to apologize at this moment.

I'm grateful for the master of the assassins to house me, to put up with me, I really am, it's just I am my own person, though I try and follow as many rules as I can. I sigh and close the room's door, pressing my back against it and slid down.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.

A/N: Last chapter kicked my ass! Ugh.

I fell asleep against the door, my neck angry at me for doing so. I woke up on my own, seeing that it was light outside, the only window in the room telling me that the day was here and my stomach was growling. Yawning and stretching, I realized that I was still holding onto the pants Altair gave me. Folding them and setting them on the bed, I stretched out a bit more, my hand linking together as I stood on my tip toes, my hands high in the air. Once all my muscles felt better from being in the stiff position for so long, I looked around. The room was bare, bed large enough to fit a man, the bed and trunk being the only pieces of furniture. The knife I had picked from out of the trunk gleamed in the morning light, the sunshine revealing how sharp the blade is. The handle was familiar, having seen something like it in Jerusalem, in Malik's bureau. Altair said that the assassin who was staying in this room went to Damascus though so perhaps he was a weapons expert?

My stomach roared at me, not a growl like it usually did, but a full fledged roar. This eating once a day thing was really starting to upset my poor stomach. I was used to snacking on maybe a piece of fruit if I spent the day at home or eating lunch if I was at work but since I was in neither place, my last meal was a snake and a swallow of water. How does Altair do this? Adaptation, that's what. The Muslims and Hebrew in this area also fasted with Ramadan so perhaps they were used to it as well. I shook my head and went to the window, wondering how they went through the day with temptations all around the corner. Perhaps if I were to view them during this time, I could figure out the answer and put this to my advantage.

Out the window, I was much higher off the ground that I anticipated, seeing the river directly below me. From the river's banks, I could see a few people swimming in the waters, some washing what looked like to be clothes on the rocks, the fabrics mixing with the blue river creating a weird image for me to look at. I sighed, leaving the room and peered down the hallway of the dormitories. Many of the doors were open, the beds made neatly for the next night's use. Almost none of the rooms were occupied, though on my way to a stone set of stairs, I spotted an assassin pull on a tunic, his arms and chest riddled with scars.

Scars were like badges to men, each one told a story, each one held some triumph, some point where boy became man. I watched this man pull on his tunic, but once his head breached, I turned and walked away. I knew my list of things to find, that I should stay out of the way. I hugged my bare arms as I passed the great hall, where many boys were having a discussion, some asking the older men questions while others were reading some type of book. These boys were the sons of the future, the fate resting in their young hands. A small inkling of understanding outside of my fangirly research back home, something I probably never would have known or began to understand had I not been here. I passed my way out of the building, squinting as the sunlight hit my unguarded eyes with a power that only the great ball of bright gas had.

Thought I didn't like it, I knew where I had to go, what all I needed but just the thought left a bitter taste in my mouth. I'd have to return to the gardens, but only to retrieve some sort of clothing. My bare feet walked carefully over the rocky way of the paths, the roads that carried so many. Of course, I would have made it to the library where Al Mualim and the gardens were, had I not been stopped. "If it isn't the girl the novice brought back." Abbas, I remember his name, he was just as arrogant as Altair. "Where are you off to now, girl, off to see the novice so you could follow him like a shadow some more?"

My eyes narrowed. "Why don't you just keep that mouth shut? It's a wonder how you ever lived to see puberty with that attitude of yours."

His chest puffed out, shoulders straightened. "A woman should keep her mouth shut unless spoken to," he said, venom in his voice.

Oh no he didn't, he did NOT just try to make me submissive. "Unless I was mistaken, you were speaking to me. What's wrong, never had a woman talk back before; never saw her anger and fury rise up against you?" I could see him edge back slightly. "Get used to it; I'll be riding your ass hard every time you dare to use that tone of voice with me." God dammit, I'm an Irish woman, my pride and stubbornness knows no bounds and I sure as hell won't let this man try to break me. "You stay away from me and I'll try to hold back the urge to break your balls, deal?"

I didn't wait for him to answer; I pushed past him, bumping my shoulder hard against his. Sure, it'd leave a bruise but the feeling that I've won makes it all worthwhile. That is, until he grabbed my arm and slapped me, knocking me down to the ground. "Insolent woman! Know your place is below a man!" He yelled, pointing down at me, just below him, as if to make a point.

"Fine! I WILL!" I shouted, kicking him squarely in the groin. Abbas grunted as he bent over, doubling as he fell to his knees, his forehead touching the road beneath us as I stood. My anger, my fury, my wrath, I felt myself lose control as I kicked his head, his ribs before decking him. Okay, maybe punching him was a bad idea, my knuckles were screaming at me as I pulled away, the pain giving me back the reins to my anger. "If you ever lay a hand on me again, I'll not only kick, but I'll break them!"

I spat in his direction before walking on. Shame that there weren't others around, his pride would never recover. I rubbed my hand, watching my knuckles turn red as I curled and unfurled my fingers, testing if my knuckles were broken. I hadn't punched a guy like that in a long time, not since one grabbed my butt back in high school. It felt good to finally let my muscles rip like that, with the speed I had as pitcher back when I played sports. They didn't feel broken, they just hurt like hell. Shaking my hand, I began to regret punching him; the man had a jaw like a brick, ouch! My fingers then went to my face, feeling the slap. It was tender and hurt, even to lightly touch my skin. Still, I was pretty sure I wasn't too hurt; I still had feeling if my nerves were firing off the pain.

The rest of my morning went along quietly as I walked around. I admit, I got lost once…maybe twice…but I made it to the library. I guess I could cut myself some slack, I had never once stepped foot inside the dormitories before so the way was still new to me. From a ridge, I could see the villagers begin their day; they're activities just beginning as shop keepers began to set up their stalls. It was then that I saw her, a woman walking around, a basket under her arm. She had her head uncovered. I blinked a few times before nodding to myself. I supposed that it would be right, considering Masyaf was a religious freedom, Islam and Judaism not here to berate women into covering their heads. I'll have to remember to pack my shawl when leaving Masyaf with Altair.

That reminds me, I never to learn how to ride a horse. Granted, I've taken control twice but I've never actually gotten on one by myself and ridden it for a long period of time by myself. I'd have to learn how sometime today if I want to travel with Altair. Sure, riding with him was comfortable and he did make a great pillow… I flushed at that thought. I can't be thinking of him like this! I can't! Shaking my head, I finally found the stone arc that lead to the training ring, library, and gardens. Already there were novices gathering around the training ring, all of them different ranks as they straightened their robes and armor, some with bracers, tightening the straps before the blade extended then retracting with just a flick of the wrist.

Many of those who had the hidden blade had all ten fingers, others were missing part of their ring finger, just like Altair. This confused me; I thought it was a sacrifice one had to make in order to use the hidden blade. "Child." I jumped, my hand to my heart. Al Mualim appeared right behind me, a gentle look in his mismatched eyes. "Who struck you?"

I raised my hand to the slap. Was it obvious? I didn't know Abbas' fate, if I say he was the one who slapped me, I could be changing history in just a small way that would later be a huge mess up in later time, but if I didn't, would I still be messing up history? Wait, this is a video game, why am I getting worked up over this, right? Still, I shook my hand. "Don't worry about it. I took care of it," I said with a smile. The master of the assassins gave off a presence that demanded attention but was also soft, like a kind parental figure, just giving out the feeling of trust.

He nodded and looked to the ring. "Fledglings, each one will become powerful eagles one day." I let out a breath as my smile grew wider. Of course he would use bird references; after all, Altair does mean eagle or bird of prey. "Perhaps one day, they will all be Master Assassins." I nodded. Each one of them had a destiny so it was very possible that they could reach that status, maybe even be a rafik or even Dai. "I have a feeling you are in need of something."

That's right. I nodded, my gaze returning to the older man. "I need to return to the gardens, to find suitable clothes. I'd also like to learn how to ride a horse."

Al Mualim gave me a confused look, his hand to his beard as he stroked it thoughtfully. "What would a child like you need to know this?"

Taking a deep breath, I lower my head. "I'd like to travel with Altair," I said quickly, bowing my head even lower as my eyes closed. When he didn't say anything, I looked up at him. The older man stared down at me, several emotions passing between his mismatched eyes. Fear, curiosity, maybe even hope and admiration, I'm not sure.

A gentle smile graced his lips. "Perhaps with you, he would remember his place as an assassin and stop speaking out of turn." Wow, doesn't that sound just like a woman's role, according to Abbas and well, half of the Middle East! "He has much to learn still," he said, looking back at the training ring. "I fear that his arrogance would kill him one day."

I bit my tongue to keep from answering, I instead nod. The ring now held two assassin novices inside, both raising their swords, pointing at each other, as if to say "you." Then, flashes of silver and clangs as they swung their one handed swords in fighting techniques. It was pretty amusing to watch the two novice taunt each other with subtle movements before they actually began to fight; one bit his tongue to his opponent, other had mouthed something, then there was the one I knew best of all, the spitting! Every one of them would make a movement then spit at their opponent. I giggled when I saw it happen, having seen it in the second game so many times. Hey, I like to taunt! Though of course, spitting is a way of dishonoring a person, I wasn't surprised that the novices were upset and their anger getting the better of them.

They looked like they were learning how to control their emotions in battle, something that was needed while on missions. My mind returned to Ibraheem yesterday and I snorted. These boys, these men, they may need to learn to control their emotions while in battle, but they should learn to keep their emotions in check at all times. I had missed Al Mualim moving past me to go into the library, perhaps to his desk, my attention was on those in the ring, however, I did a shudder run through me, as if someone stepped on my shadow. Turning, I saw that woman again. She was middle aged and gorgeous with almond shaped eyes, silver moon crescents under those dark eyes. She said nothing, only beckoning me towards her, to follow her. She said nothing as we walked away from the ring, away from the library, heading into the village; it was as if she was told not to speak. It struck me as odd because no one had spoken to her, they only looked at me.

We neared the edge of the river that ran by the village, past the fields. I had been her the day before, I wanted to tell her this but she instead held up a finger to her lips then pointed at a boulder sticking out of the water. The two of us climbed it and what I saw made me blush heavily. There was a man in the water, waist high, his arms to his short brown hair, scars covering his arms. I could see his back, some of his hips but the water and the morning sun's reflection prevented anything else to show. Turning my head to the woman, I had seen she had disappeared but looking back, I saw the man turning to deeper water, diving into the waters, his hip and the curve of his butt showing. I made a small noise, my hands flying to my face as I tried to stay quiet. As an educated woman, I had seen the male body before from school studies but as a virgin, I was very shy and giggly about it.

The man surfaced again, his head shoulders and chest bursting from the blue waters. His eyes were closed as his face was open to the sunlight; water fell from his tan skin, rolling gently. I don't know why but I watched him as he bathed, as if this was meant for me. Like many of his brothers, he was missing his ring finger on his left hand, the sacrifice assassins make, but his built body didn't hold many scars, as if he killed before he could be touched. A master of his craft, of his skill. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I bit my lip behind my hands, my mouth suddenly dry. Dark brown hair plastered itself in odd spikes as the assassin ran his fingers through his hair, water flinging off carelessly. That's when I saw it, the scar, the only scar that made a difference.

I was watching Altair bathe.

Now furiously red, I quickly turned away and ducked behind the boulder, both of my hands now covering my face as my inner fangirl was screaming in ecstasy and for me to watch more. No, I can't, I can't. He isn't meant for me! I know his fate, I can't tamper with it, I shouldn't even be here in the first place! Why, why, why did that loathsome woman bring me here? I shouldn't be watching him bathe, it's not right, even if my inner fangirl disagrees. I do have to admit, the man has a body good enough to nibble on. Wait! What am I saying? I can't feel like this about him! Sure, I'm one of his many fangirls back in my world, outside of this game but this isn't right!

"You're here?" I heard from on top of the boulder, the deep voice causing me to squeak. Looking up, I saw Altair staring down at me, sitting on his ankles as his knees drip water on my head. I can't tell if he has a towel around his waist or not, I don't look that far back, I instead look at his hair. It's a deep honey, not blonde honey but like a deep dark honey color, almost wishing it was a chocolate brown. "Do you like following me?"

My inner fangirl is screaming to answer yes, but I instead frown, trying to hide my blush as I turn my head away. "I am not following you." I swear, I could FEEL him roll his eyes before something heavy landed next to me. Turning back, I saw Altair sitting next to me, linen on his head and one around his waist as he rubs the one on his head over his hair. "Why is it that you choose to be near me? When I try and give you space, you're dragging me from place to place by my arm or are beckoning me like a dog to follow."

His hands stop moving as deep gold eyes peek out from under the white cloth. "Why is it that I should find an Anglo with the mark of the assassin's on her body, wearing clothes fit for a lady and a courtesan in one?"

The Irish in me snapped. "I am not a WASP, thank you very much! Never confuse me for those tea sipping idiots again!" I saw his eyes narrow as an eyebrow rose a tic. I let out a heavy breath and looked ahead of myself. "And for your information, I'm neither a lady nor a courtesan; I'm a sale's associate."

"A what?"

"I sell clothes. Women's clothes to be exact."

"A merchant. Women aren't allowed to be merchants." This is true, well, for the women here in the Middle East during this time. I don't think I have ever heard of a woman having a job here before now that I think about it.

However, I let this slip my mind. "Where I'm from, women have the same rights as men. We're all equal it's just we're not treated as equals in most places." I look down, seeing a tan leg dangerously close to my own. I stand and look at him, seeing his eyes from under the cloth, his skin inviting my eyes to gaze, my lips and teeth begging to suckle along the kissable muscles of his chest and stomach, but I squeeze my eyes shut and look away. He's not mine, he'll never be mine, I have to remember this. "Why is it you wish to be near me?"

"You're intriguing." Say what? I look at him and I see a man studying my face with intense eyes. "You, a mere slip of a girl, have our mark on her skin. What is it about you that one of my brothers has branded special?"

Guilt bites at me. I can't tell him that I marked myself out of whim. I instead look away before turning. "Why is it you wish to travel with me?"

This stops me in my tracks. I can't tell him the whole truth, that would make me a mad woman and therefore, I wouldn't be able to travel to figure out why I'm here and how I can go home. "I was going to work when I got into an accident. When I woke up, I was in Jerusalem, a city I know but don't know. I don't know why I was suddenly in a city so far away from where I had my accident, or why it is that I was brought here, but maybe by traveling with you, I can figure this out."

I hear scuffling from where the assassin was sitting but as I turn, I'm met with a bare chest in front of my face. Blushing, I up to see his face. "Do not expect me to save you every time then," he said before walking away.

I blink a few times before looking at his retreating figure. "Like I'd want you to save me anyways, prick," I muttered before climbing over the boulder to see the water. I think about the assassin walking away as I stare into the river. In the game, Altair dies when touching water, like just flat out dies. Even if a drop of water were to touch him, he'd be flat on his back dead. True, there are theories running around the gaming world that he can't swim and therefore dies but I saw him in his naked glory swimming in front of my eyes! Wait, why was I just thinking that? Altair can swim, maybe the game editors got lazy and didn't want to put this into the game, maybe, I don't know.

-.-.-

Stomach roared, again. This not eating thing was really starting to get to me but I didn't have anything to eat and I didn't feel like returning to the village or to the fortress any time soon. I was happy sitting on the boulder staring at the water. Best part about this whole being in the past/video game thing, no pollution. My lungs are clear and the air, though musty and filled with the smells of the desert, of the life of a nomad, it was better than the smog of the cars, of factories, of modern life. Perhaps, if I'm here long enough, I'll be free of my asthmas? Perhaps, perhaps. I blinked as a wave catches the sunlight and blinds my eyes. I shouldn't be here, I should be looking for something…what was I looking for? I put my hand to my head as I try to remember, the heel of my hand resting against my eye. What was I looking for?

The answer never came, it was driven away by a steadily growing noise, one that went in a continual rhythm before stopping, snorting making me turn. I smiled as I recognized the one making the noise. It was Altair's horse, the beautiful Arabian. Many times in the game, I had taken a white one or a dark one, but this horse was as white as snow, fur catching the sunlight on the very tips, almost giving it a godlike glow. Standing and turning completely, I see the beast watch me with soft brown eyes. Such gentleness this war beast has, almost as if it was the innocence of this world.

My hand out in front of my body, I inched close to the horse, trying to remain as calm as I could be. This horse may not be violent but a startled horse can kill a man. However, it whiskered and clomped close to my hand, pressing its large nose in my palm, throwing complete trust in me. Smiling softly, I stood by the horse, my hands on its flank and neck before I kneeled, my eyes searching under its belly. I frowned at what I didn't find but went to the rear, gently grabbing the long hairs of the tail and moved it gently. Ah, so there it was. I nod to myself and return to the horse's neck. "Not a stud, a mare. You're a girl," I whispered as it, no, she huffed at me. "I bet that man hasn't named you yet."

Here I am, living every little girl's dream, to actually touch a horse, to pet it, to have a bond, to ride knowing that the wind was your only challenge. Sure, I had ridden her before, I had touched her, but never had a chance like this is be with her. Such a gentle creature.

Her bridal and bit are in her mouth, saddle on her back, someone had prepared her to be ridden but here she was, without a rider. I smile, ready to take full advantage. I hiked my skirt high, the hem around my waist as I put a foot in a stirrup, grabbing onto the saddle horn and pulled myself up. Sure, it took me a few times, I even fell once, but I was on. I'm thankful we're alone; my pale legs are showing from the leg holes of my underwear to the bottoms of my filthy feet. Once comfortable, I grip the bridle in my hand and nudge the horse gently with my heels. Already, she is walking.

I'm doing this; I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm actually really riding a horse, not side saddle either! I laugh, the horse's ears flicking my way before my heels met her side again. "Let's ride. Show me how fast you can get," I said, my blood singing for the wind to whip at my face, for the earth to race me along the horizon, and the feeling of speed singing in my heart. I know she's increased her speed a little but it isn't enough. My heels touch her side as I holler loudly, gripping the reins in my hand tightly. It was for a split second when she's reared back did I nearly fall off and again when she suddenly charged forward, the strength in her legs surprising me. I lowered myself down, my head near hers as my hair whips behind me in a tangled mass, the air sending goose bumps all over my skin, urging her to go faster, faster!

A building from the village comes to view and though I know I'm nearly flashing everyone, I pull the reins to my right, forcing her to go right. We're passing by large crowds of people, many of them parting as they see us, others having to dodge out of the way. I didn't know where they were going, what they were doing, all I knew was that I felt like I was flying. The horse had full control now, leading me to wherever she wanted, I let her guide me. We had passed by several of the assassins near the gates, most of them watching me race by, others ignoring the fact that there was a horse passing them by. Open desert was ahead for miles and miles and for me, it meant little. I don't know this land as well as the assassins, the nomads, the desert dwellers, I know nothing of this life.

With the fortress was behind us, the horse finally came to a slow trot before a walk, only turning when I pulled the reins to face Masyaf. Looking at the great fortress, guilt hit my heart. I can't leave it, Altair is my only chance to get out this world, back to mine, I think. I owe him my life, several times over. Already, I can see a cloud of dust form but it's traveling to the left of me, heading to one of the cities, possibly an assignment. I sigh, reaching down and patted the horse's neck before nudging her with my heels. "Let's go back," I muttered as we started forward. I can ride a horse on my own now, no more clinging to Altair. Granted, my inner fangirl is unhappy about this but I need to know that I can escape if something happens. I don't need to be molested anymore.

Getting inside a crevice that led to the fortress, I swung a leg over the horse and got down. When we were in sight of the assassins, I lowered my head, staying close to the horse as we led each other to the other horses. As we drew near, I kept my eyes on the ground, hearing small whispers of the assassins near me, their muttered voices too low for me to hear properly. Giving the mare a pat on her neck, I walked away, back to the fortress, to where I had to be. Altair was my only way of getting out of Masyaf, to figure out why I'm here exactly. I'll probably never figure it out but at this current moment in time, I don't care, I'm just happy that I just rode a horse by myself for the first time in my life.

I can only hope that the rest of my time here would be almost as enjoyable as that…wait, what am I saying?


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: I don't own AC.

A/N: For those asking, they are going to Acre first, then Damascus, then Jerusalem.

In the village, I sat on one of the many benches around a fountain. How is it that a desert like area has a fountain like this? Wells I can see, small watering holes I can see, but a fountain? I know they're not completely uncommon but still. I shake my head as a yawn hits me. Why is it that I'm so tired and that I've slept so much since my arrival here? This was so not natural. My stomach let out the "I'm hungry" roar again. I need to find me something to eat and soon otherwise my stomach might cave in itself.

Spotting a stand of a merchant with some fruit, I began to wish I had some sort of currency on me to where I could buy some of food, something to silence my noisy stomach. Maybe I can just steal some…? HA! And risk losing a hand? No thanks, I rather like both of my hands, I don't want to lose one because I had stolen something. Maybe if I return to the gardens, to Al Mualim or even Altair, I'll get something to eat, maybe… My stomach growled loudly, making me blush as a man I shared this bench with looked my way before he spotted my skin, then inched away from me.

Sighing, I stood up, leaving the small clear area, heading up the hill to the fortress. The garden women may have food I can have and maybe, just maybe, I can get clean because I seriously smell. Body odor is never a good smell, especially on me. Still, as I walked up the mountain, I kept my eyes to the ground, watching where I stepped. I was still barefoot thanks to a certain assassin. I swear, that man is so ignorant, so…so self righteous, I just want to hit him! Burning my shoes, acting as if he's my superior. Arrogant prick.

I sidestepped an assassin, his hood and sleeves gray, I looked up, seeing something that made me gasp. A rafik's jacket. A rafik was here in Masyaf, not really surprising since they were once assassins as well, but it was the jacket, the very jacket that inspired me to dress as I am, to wear the mark of the assassins on my ankle. I lowered my gaze once again. It wasn't just a rafik's jacket, it was Malik's jacket. I put my hand to my heart, feeling it beat harder. Why did Malik make my heart beat harder? Why was it the same with Altair? Is it because I'm a fan of theirs? I gave that little thought though, that had to be it, after all, their fates are decided and I shouldn't do anything that should cause them to fall out of their destinies. I stopped walking, my feet had taken me as far as the dormitories as I thought of what I was doing. I was ready to follow Altair around, just to find out what I'm doing here. Doesn't that mean I'm doing something I'm not supposed to? What about… I closed my eyes. I hope that if I do attempt to do anything, that I'm not somehow ruining everything.

I don't know what I'm doing anymore. Maybe it would be best if I just stayed out of everyone's way? I find a bench near a cliff and take a seat, my knees crossed as I rested an elbow on it, my head on my hand. If I stay out of the way, everything would run smoothly, like it does in the game. I close my eyes, ignoring the sounds of the bustling life in Masyaf, ignoring the dangerous men that pass by, some with hands on their swords, all of them armed in one way or another. A soft sigh made me pop an eye open. I gasp again as I straighten up, my eyes wide.

"You!" It was that woman. "You, what do you want?" She didn't say anything, just stared at me with her soft brown eyes. She was so fragile, the many folds of cloth around her body were baggy, probably due to the climate and her beliefs but it was as if she was thin under them. The silver moons under her eyes were more prominent; she was tired. I sighed, my irritation getting the better of me. "Not going to answer me, just stand there like a bump on a log." Her eyes narrowed only slightly, increasing the exhausted look on her face, but the way she was staring, it was like she was in pain, grieving over something. "…why do you look at me like that?"

Something sparked in her eyes before she looked away, her attention somewhere else. Something inside of me nagged, tugging at my heart and mind. Before I could question it though, she walked away, her feet not making a noise.

I stand to follow her. "Elisheba?" I heard. I turn to look, seeing Ra'uf walking up. He smiles at me, a kindness in his eyes, a gentleness that shouldn't be in the eyes of an assassin.

"You know my name?" I ask, not really knowing what kind of answer I'm expecting.

The kind teacher's smile broadens. "Altair spoke of you this morning. I had seen you yesterday as well, before the two of you walked away somewhere."

I nod before sitting, waving my hand to the spot next to me, inviting him to sit. His eyes close as he shakes his head, declining. "I had seen you and your students. They're amazing."

"Potential assassins. We all had to endure this treatment to join the ranks of an assassin. As a novice, we are given many things to learn so that when faced in a real battle, we are prepared for anything," he said, a proud quietness about him. I instantly know I can trust him with my life. "You are from Jerusalem?"

It's my turn to shake my head. "No, somewhere further away. I'm not sure how I got to Jerusalem." The image of the woman flashed in my head. "Maybe she knows," I muttered.

I see Ra'uf tilt his head. "She?"

Waving a hand to where the silent Arabian woman was, I look back at the assassin. "The woman that was just here."

His eyebrows furrow together. "There was no woman here." What? I blinked and shook my head. "Perhaps this heat is getting to you. Have you eaten today?" My stomach answered, loudly, causing him to laugh, his head thrown back. "Come, we will fetch you something, yes?"

Nodding, I rise from the bench, joining him as we draw near a building. It's not one I recognize, then again, I don't know Masyaf very well, I never really spent time in it as I did the other cities. It's to be expected, I suppose. "Ra'uf, I was heading to the gardens, actually. I'm in need of different clothes."

I see the assassin's hood move. He's nodding. We walk in silence but the air is light, it's as if he's not a dangerous armed murderer, it's like he's almost like a brother. I'm pretty sure that if life were different for him, he would be a kind father, perhaps a wonderful husband; I smile at that thought. This is a kind man, granted, a dangerous assassin, but kind none the less. I trust him with my life even though I barely know him. He stopped suddenly, causing me to almost bump into him. I stand on my tip toes to peek over his shoulder to see why he has stopped. Ahead of us, blocking the path of several people, two boys were fighting. I couldn't see their faces but I could see that both of these boys were on the ground, one on top of the other as they each had the other in a headlock.

The one on top roared with anger as his fist kept hitting the other boy's side. To an outsider, this would have looked like a normal scuffle between boys, but I saw the red sash around the boy on top's waist. This was an unfair fight, it's obvious that the other is a civilian, yet no one is stopping it, well, no one until Ra'uf grabbed both of their collars and broke them up. The boys were like cats, clawing to rip out the other's throat while keeping a hand on Ra'uf's arm. It was then that he slammed both boys together, their breath knocked out of them as the slumped down to the ground. It was then that the air was stifling.

Both of the boys looked up, anger still present on their bruised and bloodied faces but it slowly melted away to fear. What was it that Ra'uf was doing to cause both of them to be so frightened? I tilted my head but said nothing as life presumed on around us. "You, boy, go home," he said and the civilian boy quickly stood up and ran off, dust rising up from each of steps. "Hashim, one of the tenants is that we do not harm the innocent. You haven't broken that tenant and must be punished."

"But he started it!" the young novice said, his split lip bleeding profusely. His dark brown eyes filled with such an anger that made me frown.

Ra'uf smacked the boy alongside his head. To this, of course, were my two reactions: I snorted, biting back my laugh as a hand covered my lower face and holy cow, he smacked him! "Go to Kadin, I want you to tell him, in these words exactly, that you had broken a tenant. Go!" he barked, his finger pointing to a random direction. Looking to where it pointed to exactly, I could see the fields where many novices were learning basic hand to hand techniques. "Tell him I sent you. After you run through the village a few times, then we shall see if you would fight another innocent again."

The young novice said nothing, but his bad attitude didn't leave as he ran past, his hatred oozing off him like a bad smell. My hand lowered as I looked back at Ra'uf, the older man's eyes watching the retreating boy, his gaze soft. So, he is kind, even when he's just. The assassin glanced over at me, a soft smile on his lips. "Come, we are nearing the gardens. Alima will have something for you to eat, I'm sure." I smile and nod, walking beside him now instead of behind. He doesn't seem to mind, this causes my smile to widen. He treats me like an equal, unlike Abbas or several other men.

On our way up to the library, to go to the gardens on the other side, I stop to look up suddenly. There is a large tower like structure that I faintly recognize beside close to us. Looking up, I see exactly what I'm looking at. It's the very tower that Altair performed the Leap of Faith off of with tricking de Sable and his men. Why did I not notice it before? "Elisheba?" I turn to see Ra'uf looking at me before looking at the tower. "Come, we're nearly there." Nodding I turned away from the tower. Maybe I'll come back one day, maybe.

He set a hand to my lower back, leading me to the library. It surprised me, I had never really been touched like this, it was so tender. I had jumped from the initial contact but slowly eased myself it relax before smiling, that is, before the heat of his hand left my person and pointed ahead. There was the library, standing just as tall as usual. From the window, I can barely make out the master of the assassins, Al Mualim. The training ring was filled with novices again, each one with a sword in hand, blocking and attacking. "I trust you know the rest of the way," I heard. Turning back to Ra'uf, I looked at him curiously. "I don't go to the gardens, my rank doesn't permit me."

I nod and smile. "Stay safe, Ra'uf," I said before making my way to the library.

"Safety and peace upon you as well," I heard.

The guards standing at the entrance of the library relaxed as they saw me walk up and allowed me to pass. Inside, the scholars were filing away books, scrolls, or walking around to set their materials in other places. Many assassins were sitting around the aisles, a book in their lap or hand, all of them studying the words on paper. I wish I could read Arabic, they'd have to haul me out of the library then just to stop me from reading. I walked up at stone steps the led to the gardens before walking inside the greenery.

It was cooler than outside where the desert heat ate at you like fire does to paper, wasting away energy as it makes you sweat and grow tired. I envy those living in the desert, they're tough individuals. "Ah, it's you. We were wondering where you had run off to," a woman said, the thin material of her sari showing her curves as she gracefully walked close to me. "Dear child, look how dark you're getting."

Her cool hand touched my cheeks. I was tanning? "Maybe it's just dust and dirt, I hadn't properly bathed in some time."

A giggle passed by her lips. "Of course, come with me. Alima will want to make sure you're properly taken care of."

I smile and follow her as she lead me to what looks like a gazebo, but it was only posts and a roof, the walls were all ivy and vine. "Ra'uf said her name before, who is she exactly?"

The garden girl laughed. "Alima is a caregiver of sorts. She is the one who is like mother to us all," she explained, grabbing my hand and leading me inside the gazebo. Inside was much cooler, almost cold, and sat me down on a bench. "Strip, I'll go get water and we'll get you washed," she said before leaving.

I was a little unsure about stripping since there were spots that could be seen through the ivy but I sighed. If I want to get clean, I have to do this. Reaching behind my head, I undid the knot the held my dress up and felt as the fabric left my body. Standing, I stepped out of the skirt before pulling away my underwear. Sitting back on the bench, I covered myself up as much as I could, crossing my legs and covering my breasts with my hands before the garden girl came back, wooden buckets in her hands. She nodded at me and smiled before she sat behind me.

I blushed but willed myself not to turn around to see what she was doing. Of course, I should have because the next thing I know, I've got freezing cold water dumped on me. Shrieking, I stood, shivering before turning to face her. "You needed to be wet," she said calmly before patting the bench again.

"That was cold!"

"Of course, what did you expect it to be?"

I sat down in a huff and closed my eyes. "Warm."

She laughed and began to scrub my back with a soft cloth. This whole experience was awkward as she washed my back, my arms, legs, and belly. I kept her away from certain areas, I'm perfectly capable of washing those myself. However, I couldn't stop the constant twitching and giggling when she began to wash my feet and toes. I'm ticklish. We never said anything, the only noises that sounded out around us were her humming and the occasional giggle from the gardens.

"Tilt back." That was her only warning before she bent me backwards, my head dunked in tub of water. I panicked and pulled my head up, only to have her hand push against my forehead. "Hold still or your hair will never be done!"

This woman had NAILS! I knew hairstylists would scratch at the scalp as well when shampooing but this woman didn't scratch, she dug! Any minute now I was expecting my brain to pop out of my head and land in the water. Another woman came in the gazebo, clicking her tongue as she looked at me. "She's pale." She then raised a crooked finger and poked my side before pinching my skin and pulled.

"Hey!" I swatted her hand away and glared. "Just what are you-" Hands, oh my God, her hands were groping me! "G-get your hands off my boobs!"

The older woman clicked her tongue again and shook her head before her icy cold hands moved away. "Such a thin, pale child." I covered myself up again and glared. She then grabbed my leg and raised it so that my ankle was right in front of her face. She didn't say anything else but let it fall before keeping her eyes on me. "Get her some clothes when you're done, I'll get some food for her."

And she was gone again. I rolled my eyes, keeping a look out at the entrance of the gazebo. "Who was that?"

"Alima."

I sat up and felt my hair being wrung. That was Alima? What? No way! Still, I said nothing as I felt my hair being braided, like I was a child again, especially when a knot was pulled out or my scalp was screaming about the pain. "Here!" I looked up to see another garden girl handing me a few folded clothes. "These should be your size." When my hair was tied, still wet even, I stood, holding onto my new clothes. The tunic was a faded brown, almost a dust color with baggy sleeves but tight wrists. It looked like it was too big for me but after pulling it up to my head, I could see that it was long enough to be tucked into the pants that Altair had given me. I smiled but then that smile dropped when I saw what else they had given.

This skirt. This skirt didn't even look like a skirt, it looked like it tried to be a scarf or some sort of ribbon and failed. "I can't wear this."

The garden girl who was doing my hair looked at the skirt. "Why not? It's very pretty."

Giving her an incredulous look, I shook my head. "I can't wear this! I'm going to be traveling with Altair, I can't wear courtesan clothes!" This was ridiculous. I'd be embarrassed to even wear it outside of the gazebo, much less to a different city. "Can it even be worn while horseback riding?" The girls looked at each other before chattering off about how ungrateful I was. Rolling my eyes, I pulled on the tunic. It was very baggy around my arms, it was like I didn't have arms at all, just a mass off fabric. "Ah, maybe this as well?"

The girls had stopped talking and started to giggle. I guess it could be seen as funny, my pale legs sticking out of a blobbed mass of a shirt. Looking down, I shook my head. "No, they don't fit you at all," one of them said before pulling it off me, their nails scrapping down my back. Without another word, they were off, leaving me alone in the gazebo, naked. I rolled my eyes before grabbing my underwear, dropping it in tub of water and, I'm guessing, soap. I need this clean if I want to go through this without incident. Did they even have underwear?

I shook my head, holding up my now clean undies and wrung them. I didn't have time to wait for them to dry as I pulled them on. Cold, very, very cold, but at least I'm now wearing something, that's my one comfort for now. I sat and waiting for what seemed like hours until they finally came back, the familiar pants in hand and what looked like a novice's tunic. "We couldn't find anything else."

"No, no, this is perfect." I quickly pulled on the pants and smiled, slipping into the tunic. It was baggy as well but it would fit if I had some sort of belt or sash. The sleeves were kind of tight but baggy enough to move around without worrying about ripping or anything. "What about my feet?"

The girls looked at each other before handing over boots. "Again, this was all we could find." Boots, like the one the men wore. Putting the bottoms to the bottom of my own feet, I smiled brightly. They were my size, and I've got tiny feet. How did they find these? Grabbing part of the discarded tunic, I ripped the sleeves off before typing an end of one, slipping a foot in it then sliding on the boot. It fit like a glove, or should I say, like a sock.

I giggled before slipping my other foot in my homemade sock and then the boot. They fit perfectly, and with this tunic, I could move around comfortably without any worry. "Thank you," I said before quickly leaving the gazebo, not looking back. Please let that be the last time I need to go into the gardens, please!

-.-.-

Getting back to the dormitories was no problem, I was beginning to know my way around Masyaf now, only getting stopped once or twice, probably because I'm wearing guy clothes but still, I felt happy that I could now go about life clean, properly clothes and somewhat happy. Now if only I could find some…food? Ra'uf was waiting for me near the dorms, an apple in his hand. "Thought you might need this," he said with a smile, throwing it at me.

Catching the red fruit, I smiled back. "You knew she wouldn't feed me?" He laughed and shook his head before leaving. I looked down at the fruit before taking a bite of it, thankful that our relationship was at a good level. Apples are my favorite fruit and just eating this one felt like home to me. Mom always made the best baked apples so just having one was some sort of comfort, especially to my belly.

The core tossed in the bushes, my stomach quit growling, the sun on my back, things where looking up. "What's that?"

I turned and crossed my arms. "Altair."

"What is that?" he repeated, pointing at my hip.

Oh come on, I wasn't even in the dormitories to grab a belt and he's pestering me. I sighed, looking at him dead in the eye. "What's what?"

"That." He pokes my hip, his finger moving up and down my hip and butt.

I look to see what he's doing, a blush on my face from his finger's contact. However, my eyes weren't following his finger, they were on what his finger was following. There, as clear as day, was a panty line. "That's a panty line," I muttered, looking up at his face.

His eyes turn to look into mine, curiosity deep in the golden orbs. "Panty line?"

Waving a hand, I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, it's when the underwear shows through the…" WHAT? I look down at the line again, a deep heavy blush on my face. "Why didn't anyone tell me I had a panty line? And here I was telling him what it was! Why, why, why?" I put both hands to my face and let myself fall to my knees. "I should be thankful it's Altair and not Ezio though. Wait, why am I thinking of Ezio?" I feel my ears turning red as I hide my face in my hands.

"Are you done?" the assassin asked, amusement in his voice. "We ride off today."

I snap my head up, confusion on my face. "What, I thought we're leaving tomorrow?" The dangerous assassin raised an eyebrow, as if asking me if I dare to question him. "Today's a good day for a ride." I stood and walked awkwardly in the dorms, the assassin following me. I turn to see him looking at my braid but didn't say anything. It wasn't until we reached my room that I realized that my little problem would be an issue. I'm thankful that I had untucked the tunic so the panty line was hidden, but now… "Altair, I need a belt or a sash." He nodded before reaching down and untying his own sash. "No, no, that's part of you," I said, putting my hands on his to stop him. His eyes were deep as they looked in mine, his face getting closer. My inner fangirl screamed loudly as a blush dusted my cheeks. No, I can't! I turn my head away and move my hands to be at my side. "I'll find my own."

Things were very awkward between us, I could feel it. I refused to look up at his face but I knew he was frowning. "Meet me at the gate soon, we leave then," he said before walking away. I sighed and nodded even though he couldn't see it before looking at him. His hands were in fists and his stance was stiff. I'm a fangirl, yes, but I can't do this, it's not right. I know his fate, I have to remember this, I know his fate. Until he meets it, I have to keep my distance.

Someone sighed near me as arms wrapped around my waist. That woman. She stood by me, a sad look on her face as she tied a dark brown sash around my midsection. I snorted and looked away. What does she know? All she does is show up at different times, oh she bothers me. Once the sash was around my waist and the line gone, I went into the room, not even bothering with a thanks. I grabbed the blade that reminded me of Malik and looked back. She was gone, as usual. Weird woman. Tucking the blade in the side of the boot, I left the room, shutting the door and walked out of the dormitories.

Finding my way through the crowd was easy, learning the pathways were easy, however, getting to the horses and seeing Altair standing next to his mare, hard. This was going to be one long and awkward trip to Acre. Getting on a black Arabian, I nodded, tucking a shawl around my head and shoulders. We were off into the day, the horses running hard to Acre, for Altair to find and assassinate William of Montferrat and hopefully, for me to figure out why it is that I'm here. This was going to be the beginning of a very long journey.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.

A/N: Sorry that the last chapter was sort of rushed, I kept getting distracted but I'm here now and working on it. And SCREW YOU ALL! I'm not keeping the Kingdom landscape like in game; sorry, no. I feel that it would probably encroach on the game designers and I don't think that the landscape between the cities is really rocky.

Our ride was silent as we traveled to Acre, both of the horses staying quiet as nothing was heard save for the wind and their hooves on the earth. The sun light on my back warmed my body up enough for me to grow hot and start to sweat, again. I hate this heat. Dry heat, disgusting; I've always hated it. Sighing, I pass a glance to Altair but his eyes were ahead to our destination. He was probably thinking of several killing techniques, perhaps of what his master holds, of the trip, I'm not exactly sure, I'm not a mind reader but his eyes were intense and hard. I smiled to myself and turned back to ahead. I would make a crack about him thinking too hard but that wouldn't work out in my favor.

My horse's ear kept flicking as a fly buzzed around lazily. I reached over to wave it away, hopefully making this somewhat less of a hassle for the beast. Patting the horse's neck, I saw its large dark brown eye looked back at me as it softly huffed. I smiled and rubbed a spot near the saddle, watching the eye roll and glaze. A sweet spot no doubt. My nail itched it a while before I patted the fur in line again. By this time, I saw out of the corner of my eye that Altair was watching me, his face tilted only slightly. "It's very rude to stare."

He snorted and urged the mare to move faster so he was ahead. My heels nudged my own horse along as well so that we were dead even. Altair saw this and moved his horse faster. Oh, if he's playing this, then so am I. My horse moved just a few steps ahead of his and then the race was on. It was without warning that both of our horses were racing to beat each other. Speed coursed through my veins as the wind whipped around my face. My shawl was off, probably dancing behind me. Altair lowered himself to be closer to his horse, gaining extra speed. I laughed as pulled the reins, slowing my horse. He can win this one.

Up ahead was another tower, one where a view point was. I shook my head when I saw it. There is one thing that is absolutely certain, I'm never climbing something that high just to jump off into a hay pile that may or may not catch me. Sorry, no way in hell I'm doing it, not this fangirl. Catching up to the stopped Altair, I could see a light look on his face, almost like he was amused. I should have known he was one for races. He reached down and petted his mare's neck before clicking his tongue to urge her forward. I smiled and fixed my shawl as I followed.

By midday, neither of us had spoken a word to each other since I caught him staring so the silence was unnerving; it felt like I couldn't speak his language again. My body began to scream at me though as I felt my thighs rub against the saddle beneath me. I was going to be sore by the time I sleep and I'll bet anything that by the time we reach Acre and I can properly sit down again, I'll have saddle sores. I was beginning to regret learning to ride altogether, side saddle just meant my legs would be sore from lack of use, not rubbed raw from saddle.

My stomach growled loudly, startling my horse as well as myself. As my horse reared up, I gripped the reins tightly and closed my eyes just as tight. When the horse settled, I slowly opened my eyes, flushing from the sound. Why is it that I'm so hungry and tired now? Was it this heat? I put my hand to my forehead, feeling a massive headache coming to me. Altair had seen this motion and his horse stayed close to mine, in case something should happen. Prick. Still, I felt my body temperature rise as my vision swayed. Closing them, my headache's pain pulled back some and my nausea settled. If I had to go through this trip blind, so be it.

We neared a village my ears listening to the voices as they pounding on my skull, like hammers to anvils. Why wasn't there some sort of modern medicine around when you needed it? If I were to run to a doctor, they'd probably drill a hole in my head to relieve pressure, or as they called it, letting loose demons. Stupid men. By night fall, my headache grew worse, to the point of every step my horse took sent my stomach in a constant wave of threats to empty itself. I never got this violently sick before, especially with a headache. My grip weak, head spinning, body aching, I sighed; I'm coming down with a cold or the flu. That's when paranoia hit me: they had the plague back then, it wiped out dozens every day.

I didn't see Altair's hand grab the reins from my own until we came to a stop somewhere in the middle of the desert. The night air felt great on my hot skin, I just wanted to soak up the cold forever. "You're sick," Altair said, his eyes on my face as he saw the flush on my cheeks and sweat on my brow.

I cracked a grin as my sense of humor turned twisted. "Wow, no shit. Gee, I thought it was just the sun." After I said this though, a logical thought passed through my head. What if it was sun sickness? I had been out in it constantly but it didn't make sense to my sick head. I had played outside as a child nearly every day so why now? Of course, I didn't think of it back then but now, it's probably because when I was a child, I would go inside every so often to speak to my mother or to play inside as well. Here in the Middle East, where horse is the only transportation, there is no inside while traveling.

I didn't miss the frown on Altair's face as he dismounted and pulled the two horses to a fallen tree, tying the reins down. "You need rest if you're sick," he said calmly. If someone were watching who didn't know Altair, one would think he cared but for me, it just meant that he doesn't want a sick person traveling with him and slowing him down. No, he has a target to kill soon and honor to restore. I dismounted and sat in the sand as I wrapped my arms around myself. "Why didn't you say anything?" he snapped, standing over me.

"Oh, like you would have listened. To you, I'm probably some little girl who is so spoiled and constantly complains. I haven't said shit because honestly, it's none of your concern if I was sick or not, you arrogant son of a bitch!" I shouted, my eyes closed tightly. I regretted this, not because I was yelling at Altair, but because I was yelling period. My headache pounded even more now. "Besides, what could you have done, hm? Nothing, that's what."

I heard footsteps move away, before opening my eyes. Altair shook his head, I could see from the movement of his hood, and went to the saddle bags, rummaging through them. I rolled my eyes before lying down, my arms tight to me. Already I can see Altair lighting a fire, gathering what brush he could find in the darkness. I watched him through the flames, his smoldering eyes looking right back at me. I rolled over and looked at the stars, ignoring him entirely. Prick.

Stars filled the night sky, like they always did, each one connected to the other in some way or form. Already I was looking for familiar shapes, Orion, the little dipper, the big dipper, and so on and so on but none came to me. These shouldn't really be different but instead, I see none of the well known constellations. Where they only over my home? That didn't make sense though, the world turns and with it, the pictures in the sky. I sighed before rolling over again, my back to the fire. Stupid stars, stupid assassin, stupid headache, stupid saddle, stupid, stupid, stupid.

I wish sleep would come to me already, like it has so many times before. It seemed no matter where I curled up at, I was out like a light within the next minute but this time, I couldn't. Still, I could feel his eyes on my back, drilling holes right through me it seemed. I sighed before sitting up, glaring at him. "What?"

"I said nothing."

"You're staring," I snapped, pissed off at him. Wait, wait, wait, wait. I put a hand to my lower belly, thinking hard. If I was right, and I hope I'm wrong otherwise this will be nasty and gross, then I was going to hit my monthly cycle soon. "Shit."

The assassin narrowed his eyes but saw my hand and raised an eyebrow. "You're with?"

My head turned so fast, my neck popped. "What? Oh hell no, I'm still virgin." Weird, I would have felt ashamed saying that out loud since he is a man but at the same time, my blunt attitude along with my irritability shone through. I would have explained the truth to him but at the same time, I felt embarrassed. It's Altair, a famous assassin, he doesn't have to worry about things concerning women. His job is to kill targets, that's it. Still, I looked up to the heavens and wished that I was wrong. Please, please, PLEASE, just let this be a bad sickness. I don't want to deal with my period, not here, please, at least not while traveling. A few days in one of the cities would be great, then I wouldn't have to deal with this on the road.

Ugh, I need to think of something else. "How long until we reach Acre?"

The assassin looked at the fire, a hand near the flames to warm his fingers. "Four days."

My eyes went wide. "It takes four days to get there?"

Gold orbs looked at me, the fire dancing with the dark honey in his eyes. "Five days. If we walk the horses through the last night, we can reach it by morning." That would give him the whole day to explore the city and find out some information on William. "Hope that we don't come across guards along the way, they would only slow us down."

I look over at the hoofed beasts. "The horses can outrun them."

"But can you?" My eyebrows furrowed with that. Why would I have to outrun them? I'm not the assassin meant to kill nine men for an honor and rank. "Can you fight a man with only a blade? Five men, six, more? You are only a girl, unarmed, harmless."

I pull out the blade that I stuffed in my boot, careful it didn't slice my leg. "I am armed and I'm a quick study."

His eyes darkened before they looked at the blade. "Armed with a blade won't save a virgin like you from hungry men," he said in a hollow voice. The look in his eye was distant, like he was remembering something. Adha maybe? They then turned to me and through the fire, I saw a hidden sadness before it disappeared behind his mask.

Though he spoke the truth, I shuddered. My father had always warned me about men like that, that's why he tried to teach me to defend myself, but after being groped by that raider days ago, I know I'll never stand a chance on my own if caught in a similar position. I nod to myself, sheathing the blade before crossing my legs, my hands on my ankles as my back hunched. I saw Altair's eye widen just a bit; perhaps he had never seen a girl sit Indian style before? Still, he moved a hand close to him and tossed something through the fire at me. "Eat."

I caught what he had tossed, more dried meat, the flesh smooth in my hand. Ripping a piece off with my teeth, I looked at the coals and smiled. "Going to burn my shoes again?"

"Take them off and I might," he said, amusement in his voice. There were faint traces of a smile at the corner of his lips before his eyes ducked under the hood.

-.-.-

Morning came again and with it, Altair's hand on my shoulder, waking me up. Wordlessly, we set off to prepare ourselves for the rest of the trip, and let me say this, going to the bathroom in the desert is so disgusting. Still, on the rested horses, we rode hard to Acre, galloping the horses before letting them rest in between with slow walks. My legs were already sore from the saddle and I still have to endure it even more. It was almost abuse on Altair's part. Speaking of the assassin, when the horses were walking, he'd be in a very relaxed pose, almost lazy. Of course, on a few occasions, he'd ride on handed, his right arm dangling by his side, back hunched. I shook my head, keeping my eyes forward to our destination, days away.

The assassin's mare came close to my own horse, his hand on mine to stop us. I looked at him, curious as to why he did this exactly. "What's wrong?" I asked, concern filling me up like a balloon. His face was to the horizon, his eyes studying the earth. "Altair?" He hollered loudly, pulling the reins out of my hands, pulling my horse to follow his. What was he doing? Is the sun getting to him? I didn't really have time to ask, I was too busy trying to hold onto what reins I could get, the mane of the horse and the saddle horn at the same time.

The pounding of the horses were loud, filling my ears as they whinnied, charging to wherever Altair led them. A fallen tree came into view past a dune of sand. "Whoa, whoa!" he shouted, stopping both horses before dismounting, tying up the reins to the trunk of the tree.

I watched from on top of my horse, unsure of what's going on. "Altair, what is it? What's wrong?" He said nothing, drawing out scraps of cloth and covered the beasts' faces. "Answer me, what is it?"

His hands went to my waist and he pulled me down. My hands gripped themselves on his sleeves as he looked down at me, traces of concern in his eyes. "Lie down."

"What?" Whoa, whoa, whoa! Time out! Say what?

"Just do it." He let me go and went to a saddle bag, pulling out a blanket before closing it securely. He's not serious. Of course, he caught the look on my face and rolled his eyes. I didn't think he was capable of doing that! He gripped one of my shoulders, spun me around and pointed off in the distance. "You see that?" I followed where his finger was pointing. I didn't see it at first but as it came closer, it was more and more apparent. "That's a sand storm."

How did he see that? "What do we do?" I asked, turning to him.

Altair looked around, frowning at the situation. "There aren't any caves nearby, nor homes or some sort of protection."

I looked at the blanket in his hands. "And you think that will?"

"Would you prefer to be in a sandstorm without protection, the gritty earth digging in your eyes, deafening you, blinding you, making you lose your bearings?" I shook my head. "Then deal with it."

Time was against us, as was the sand, the storm getting closer and closer. I bit my lower lip and nod to Altair. He grabbed an edge of the blanket and handed another end to me before we both lied down, the ends tucking under our bodies. Perhaps a few seconds later, a deafening roar filled my ears as I closed my eyes, my hands hiding my face in fear. Already I can feel the weight of the wind as it brushed along the length of my body, the sand building up in the dips of the blanket. It was dark already, the storm blotting out the sky.

I felt hands on my own before they moved them to fabric then wrapped themselves around me. Altair was holding me close, his nose under my shawl, in my hair, his lips on my forehead. Beneath my hands I can feel the steady beating of his heart and the breath in his lungs. My eyes squeeze tighter and move my head just a few centimeters and then, I feel it. The skin of his neck is just barely brushing the edge of my nose. I can smell him, the musty smell of man, sand, sweat, and something else on his skin, something I don't recognize. If I wasn't scared of the storm, I'd probably be red.

I feel his muscles tighten around me as he pulls my body closer, the weight of the sand on the blanket sending grains to face on my face. One of my hands pulls my shawl over my face before brushing the grains that fell. I can barely hear it over the wind but it's there: the scared whiny of the horses. "Altair," I say softly.

I wasn't sure that he heard me but his lips dance along my forehead. "I hear them." The storm went on like this for what felt like forever. My only comfort was the steady beats of his heart beneath my hands. The sand building up on our bodies kept sending grains of sand everywhere. I'm pretty sure I had sand on my hand, building up into its own dune. Once, one of Altair's hands moved from my back, some rustling could be heard before it returned to its exact same position. During that time though, my hands wrapped into fists, clinging to his robes and armor. I was scared, I had an excuse.

The storm left as quickly as it came, sand settling in with a hiss as I opened my eyes, trusting that I wouldn't get gritty earth in them. I was looking at his neck and what I could see of his shoulders and chest. I was so close to him, so very close. Our chests would have been touching had my hands not clung to his armor, but part of our bellies were. As I concentrated on what else, I realized that one of our knees were touching as well as a foot, not to mention he's holding me to him. My inner fangirl is screaming her head off, telling me to bite him, kiss him, touch him, but I can't, I know I can't. I close my eyes again, trying to brush off the thoughts that just circled my head.

The assassin's hands left my back, leaving the spots he had them at cold from lack of contact. As he did this though, I relaxed. Was I that scared that I tensed up my whole body? Seemed so because every muscle relax even though I was still so close to Altair. His hands went to the top of the blanket and threw it off of us, sitting up as well; the sun blinding as more sand settled everywhere. I let go of his armor before moving to be on my belly, letting whatever sand built on me fall before I looked around. It was like a brand new desert.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the horses, both were on the ground, as if they were dead but then rose when the storm's howling winds finally faded away. With the blanket pulled away, I stood up and brush the dirt and sand off, feeling the grit of it all under my finger tips. I'm pretty sure that I've got sand in my boots, down my pants, probably my underwear too, and this would not be a good thing. I watched though as the assassin went to the horses, taking the cloth from their heads and petting the mare on the neck before going to the stallion, checking them both over for any wounds. Both the horses were filthy, their original color gone from their coats, hiding behind the dust that was the desert.

I grabbed the blanket, shaking it free of the sand and dirt before folding it as best as I could, watching as Altair pulled handfuls of sand that managed to slip in, weighing down the horses before grabbing some supplies and shaking them free of whatever the harsh storm brought. Handing the blanket over at him, our fingertips touched, it was so light and faint, I almost missed it had it not been for him looking at me before he stuffed it back into the saddle bag of the mare. We said nothing as we mounted the horses again, ready to get to Acre. Oh, the pain shot through my thighs as I put a leg through a stirrup and threw the other over the back of the horse, my thighs screaming as I felt the muscles stretch.

I was not looking forward to going to Acre all the way on horseback, especially sore. Everything seemed to have a strong dislike for me: the sun, this unbearable dry heat, even the saddle, and the sandstorm. Why? Was it because I'm from this world, this time? I sighed while looking at the saddle horn, upset about this now, however, my thoughts were on the trip only. I want to see Acre for myself, not though a screen, but to actually be there. "We're going to be late, aren't we?"

Altair grunted. Just how long were we trapped in that storm? I'm guessing the typical sand storm is like any storm at all, that it can last a few minutes or go on for hours, even days. The sun was in a different position in the sky, I'm guessing we were there for an hour or so, maybe? I'll probably never know. The only way to tell time anymore is the prayers of the Muslims, even then, it's just a guess as to a specific time. Hours, minutes, what were they in this world without clocks, without some proper measurement of time? I think back to my watch, the very thing that had stopped in my car and smiled. Even now, it'd be useless, just as it was back at home, where it sat that the bottom of my purse.

Did it break in the accident? Will I ever find out? Perhaps I won't, maybe I'll be trapped here until the end of my days, never again seeing my family or friends, my pets, my home, everything I hold dear to my heart… Out of the corner of my eye, I see Altair looking at me, his eyes burned. "What?" He didn't say anything, just blinked at returned to looking ahead. He infuriates me! I clicked my tongue and led my horse out to be away from him; the prick is such a, well, prick. Arrogant, selfish, impossible prick. I sighed, letting go of my anger that I held for the white donned assassin. The man is my only ticket to finding out why I'm here in the first place and, more importantly, how to find a way home. Of course, at this thought, I suddenly imagined the Apple of Eden sitting on Al Mualim's desk, the ancient yet highly advanced piece of technology might play part in this as well, couldn't it?

Biting my lower lip, I worried it between my teeth in thought. What could have brought me, a girl from the twenty-first century, a sales associate working in a dress shop to the year 1191 A.D.? Not only that, but why here to the Middle East where I hardly know anything about save for the game and some things from school or the news? I heard hooves come near my own horse, the pace quicker to catch up. What exactly was going on here? I'm just a gamer, my only knowledge of fighting and weapons is a few kicks, a mean right hook, and a stun gun. I'm useless here! I don't aid to the known history, I'm definitely not helping Altair out just by being around him, so why am I here? Why not some other fangirl?

Time passed slowly as we traveled through a village; the people leaping out of the way from the horses. Of course, when I first saw a man nearly trip over his own feet to get out of Altair's way, I snorted in a very unladylike fashion then slapped over my mouth to hide my smile, my eyes closed so I didn't crack up even more. The whole time we were in the village, I imagined when I was playing the game at home and ran through everyone I saw while on a horse, guard or not. Altair turned his head and looked at me, his brows furrowed as his gold eyes narrowed. I was being scolded mentally, I'm pretty sure of it. Of course, my snort brought on a coughing fit, reminding me that I still wasn't feeling up to par.

Leaving the village however, that was the problem. Why is it that entering something is alright but should you try and leave it, it's the biggest mess up imaginable? Why do I say this? One reason, a man looked at the two of us, and I think Altair put the fear of God into him with just a look because he paled and ran away, yelling at the top of his lungs. This alerted the nearby guards and they of course ran after Altair. Too bad I'm traveling with Altair because now I have to run away as well.

This was perhaps the most fun I've had though because Altair had a crazy smile on his face as his horse surged forward. Seeing that crazed smile scared me and it tickled me greatly. Laughing in the wind, I followed Altair as best as I could as we raced away from the village, away from the guards, to Acre for Altair to kill William of Montferrat and possibly, a clue as to why it is that I'm trapped in a world and time that isn't my own. Of course, we still have three more days before getting to Acre so maybe then, I'll find something that might help.

Our ride through the desert was somewhat stimulating, the wind from the run was cool and it felt good against this heat. I turned my head to peak behind, seeing that we had long past lost the guards, even if they were to catch up horses, and that we wouldn't see another guard for a while. That is until I turned back and went over a dune. There, up ahead, was a roadblock, guarded by more men in uniforms: white with red crosses on the chests. I felt blood drain from my face before looking at Altair, seeing that he was looking very intently on the roadblock. "Is this the only way to Acre?"

He frowned. "For now, yes."

We're screwed!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has Ubisoft as its creator. Psh, I don't own anything period!

A/N: There will be French in this chapter, translations will in an author's note at the bottom of the chapter. I think I'll have one at the bottom of every chapter now for historical notes, translations and anything else that might imperative to know of the chapter.

My horse huffed before it pawed at the ground. I could see out of the corner of my eye Altair grabbing his sword, his fingers on the eagle shaped hilt as his eyes narrowed. We can't just run through the roadblock, that'd be suicide for me, not to mention, it's be entirely stupid. Still, I could see that the assassin next to me was very tense. "Hang on, Altair," I said, moving my horse to be in front of his. "We can't just go in there without thinking it through, we need a plan and not one of your reckless plans either." He frowned at me, his eyes hard. I bit my lower lip and looked away; I shouldn't have implied anything about Solomon's temple. However, looking back at the road block, I knew that we had to get through.

It was almost like it was a mutual agreement that we just ride ahead. My horse stayed behind his as we drew near the roadblock. Grabbing the edge of my shawl, I made sure it was low enough to cover my eyes. If something should happen, I want to be right behind Altair during the whole time so that I know exactly where to go and what to do. From what I could see, none of the guards at the check point had seen us just yet, they were still on the lookout for something, or someone. Looking at Altair from the corner of my eye, I knew that they'd be looking for someone like him.

As we drew near, one of the men raised an alarm, calling out to us in a hurry. The others had turned as they drew their swords one by one. Altair watched them all carefully, ready to draw his in a second as the hand on the hilt of his sword tightened. "On ne permet pas ici des transgresseurs, partent maintenant," one of them said. Altair's sword slowly began to draw out of its sheath.

French, they were speaking French! My eyes went wide as I recognized the language I've known my whole life. I set my hand on Altair's arm, my eyes narrowing before turning to one of the men, keeping a tight grip on the reins of my horse. "Nous vous voulons dire aucun ennui, nous traversons simplement," I said, hoping that somehow the men would stand aside and just let us through without bloodshed.

I saw Altair give me a look out of the corner of his eye but the arm my hand was resting on relaxed and slowly moved, the sword now fully sheathed. It seemed like, for the moment, he trusted me. The guards warily looked over us, circling us before one guard's eyes went to Altair then to myself, curiosity and apprehension written on his face. "Pourquoi voulez-vous passer à travers? Quelles sont vos affaires?" They were questioning on our traveling and I could tell that Altair wasn't a patient man, his arm kept flexing under my fingertips, his hands would loosen then tighten again on the reins.

I bit my lip, trying to think of a good reason why they should let us through but nothing came to mind. "Nos affaires sont notre propres, stand de côté, nous ont laissés passer!" I shouted, removing my hand from Altair's arm and moving my horse to show that I wanted by. "Stand de côté!"

A few of the guard looked at each other before one looked at me, his face softening as his green eyes looked into mine. "Si vous êtes arrêté aux portes de la ville de l'Acre, vous jamais n'êtes apparu ici," he said, giving up on holding us there.

Nodding, I looked over at Altair as the guards parted, letting us go through. The assassin nodded to me and we set off again to the city, the roadblock finally over with. Acre was still three days away but thankfully, we wouldn't have to go through that roadblock again, at least, I would hope not. When we were far enough from the road block, Altair turned to look at it before looking at me. "You speak their language?"

I smiled. "It's French, the language of love." I saw the assassin frown, causing me to giggle. "It's called that because it sounds so pretty."

He snorted, keeping an eye out ahead of us. "Sounded like you were clearing your throat to me." Altair then looked at me from under his hood, his eyes filled with curiosity. "Where did you learn it?"

I turned to him, the smile still on my face before I turned back ahead. "I grew up knowing it. I was born where French and English are the two main languages." I then looked back at him, a smug look on my face. "I told you I knew two languages." He didn't look amused, just irritated as he turned his head away. "What about you? I know you know Arabic, that's a given, but were you taught any languages?"

It took him a while to answer, almost like he was contemplating the question. "English," he said curtly, after much thought. I blinked. In the game, everyone spoke English but it's because the Animus translated everything, however, hearing Altair say that himself, it's a little bit of a shocker. His eyes turned to me, the gold orbs telling me so much that he himself will probably never say allowed. There was a hidden sadness, almost like he himself wasn't even aware of it.

Something in my subconscious triggered, reminding me something I read when I first began my research on the game and the characters: Altair is only half Arabic. Having been born of a Christian mother, he knew her language. I bit my lip and looked away, ashamed that I brought up something like that, especially when it wasn't business to know anyways. Damn my curiosity.

We didn't say anything else as we passed by an English village, the merchants all calling out as they had imports from their home, hoping to make a bargain from anyone. "Milk! From our English cows, so sweet, it'll turn any bad day into a good day!" I heard from one, watching as he held up skins filled with the white liquid. There were more like this, all selling English wares, as if things from the land they're on now was so terrible.

"Drinking milk in this heat's never a good idea, it'll turn a person sick, not to mention it'll sour and go bad," I muttered under my breath. "And why is it that everything must be English? English milk, English fabric, English, English, English." The corner of Altair's mouth lifted ever so slightly as he heard me rant. "What's wrong with what they get here? It's not like the quality is any different, just the price and waiting period. Food from England probably went bad while it was being shipped here and what if it was dropped in mud or worse?" I shuddered at the thought, starting to fill my head with disgusting images.

"Do women where you're from speak like you do?"

I blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"You speak your mind so openly, tell me why."

I blinked before smiling. "I've told you that women are treated as equals where I'm from. We are allowed to speak our mind, allowed to talk freely. Though, society says we aren't allowed to say certain things yet there are rebels out there who would openly backtalk authority and protest over some of the most simplest of things."

Altair shook his head as he clicked his tongue, urging the mare forward. I guess that our conversation was over, not that I minded, I did have to worry about excluding certain pieces of information from him so that he didn't have to try to understand anything that might be complicated. I let out a soft giggle as I could imagine him trying to understand the concept of a car, x-rays, computers, any type of modern technology, well, my modern technology. Everything that I know would be in the far future for him, none of it would ever be seen by the assassin. I shook my head. This is a video game, not the past. Some things may be similar but game designers had used real historical events to wrap and mold a game around them.

Still, I say nothing but continue on my travels with him, the assassin I know and yet, don't really now at the same time. Of course, when the sun began to set, the dusk looking very pretty me with the purples and blues, I began to hum a small song. This made the assassin turn to look at me, recognition on his face. I stopped humming and tilted my head. "What?"

"You did that before."

My head tilted even more now. "What, hum?"

He nodded. "You did that in your sleep." I cracked into a smile again. I had heard something like that before from several of my friends, family members and now, from a man that was a main character in a video game.

The stars began to come out as the sun dipped into the earth for the evening, and like the night before, I recognized none of them, however, the moon began to show herself again, though her cycle seemed to be coming to a close. The horses were stopped once more, ending our travels as a skin was tosses at me, as well as what looked like some sort of fruit. "Eat."

I sighed before lifting the foreign piece of food to my nose, squeezing the meat of it gently. No odor arose from it and the flesh of the fruit was hard to squeeze, my guess, the fruit was under ripe. However, Altair just sat on a rock, carving some fruit. This was odd to me because normally, he'd be staring into flames but alas, there were none. "No fire?" I asked, wondering where the source of heat was.

Altair's hand went in his robes before tossing something at me, something small and sharp. Hissing in pain, I lifted a cut finger to my lips. "The flint too small."

I stared at the small yet sharp rock in my hand before sighing and tossing it back. "Ever heard of rubbing two sticks together? Friction would eventually lead to fire if under a constant pressure in a controlled enviorment." A gold eye turned my way, almost as if I said something rude. I huffed and turned my head away. Still, I sat down near my horse, taking a bite of the fruit that was in my hand. It wasn't even sweet enough to properly taste, if anything, it was bitter and disgusting. I spat out the fruit before glaring at the assassin.

Altair did nothing, just continued to eat at his own fruit, acting as if there was nothing wrong with it. How could he stand it? Bitter and disgusting, I'd rather eat a bug than the fruit. Still, the fruit's juice coated my tongue and I'm sure that no amount of brushing would have fixed the taste. I set the fruit down on the ground before turning away. The night air was getting colder and colder, the temperature already biting at my ears and nose, the joints in my hands becoming stiff.

Cracking my knuckles, I crossed my arms and held myself to keep out the cold. Stupid assassin.

-.-.-

Morning came, again. This time, Altair didn't wake me, instead, the sun did. Stretching, my poor back groaned before I stretched out my legs, reaching for my toes, my already sore thighs in pain. Looking around, I didn't see the assassin anywhere, neither was the mare. Had he left without me? Without a second thought, I mounted the stallion, grabbing onto the reins to go off and search.

I got maybe a few feet away from my original position before I realized that I didn't know which way Altair went or which was Acre was. I sighed before crossing my arms, looking around for the assassin. I growled loudly, making my horse pace back and forth for a couple of, what felt like, minutes. "Tch, bastard." I couldn't exactly race off to Acre since I didn't know which direction to go, besides, it wasn't like there were prints in which I could follow. "That prick," I said, my hands gripping the reins tightly.

I don't know how long I was there, the morning sun was still rising when I heard another horse draw near, the neighs growing louder and louder. My horse got anxious as I reached down, patting his neck. "Easy, easy." Of course, I myself was tense and on edge. I wanted to reach for the blade in my boot but my body didn't want to move.

A white hood came into view before I relaxed. Altair just arrived, strolling along as if he owned the place. Prick. Letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, I frowned at him before allowing my horse to follow. Needless to say, this was the extent of the day, the whole day. I'm dead serious, we didn't say a word, we didn't stop, all we did was continue on to Acre. A part of me wished that I was sharing a horse with Altair again, my fangirl did, that was obvious, but another part of me was tired and needed the rest, and it was easier to rest when leaning on or against something rather than just feeling the sway of the horse itself.

I don't know how Altair manages these trips, had it just been me, I would have gone crazy a while ago and began to speak to myself but instead, Altair just acts as if this was nothing. I guess that to him, it was nothing. Sighing, I counted the days. Two days and the night in between the last two was a none-stop trip. I suppose a nap wouldn't hurt, I just hope that I wouldn't fall of the gentle giant.

But with my eyes closed, I'd be reminded of what happened before I opened my eyes to Jerusalem. How would I leave this world? Would my parents bury me or would they cremate me then save my ashes beside my family's? Would my funeral be large? No, I didn't have too many friends and I've never been one for attention. Where would my things go? Would anyone miss me?

These thoughts kept me entertained for a very long time, long enough to not notice the changing of the light in the sky as the sun set and the moon rose. Still, even as the two of us went on throughout the night, the only noises made were by the horses, well, except my stomach once. Why is it always my stomach that talks? I could have gone two days without eating and my stomach wouldn't have made one noise but I come here and all it does is grumble and growl.

This was thankfully sated by water and some hard bread but still, the conversations were as dried up as the desert we were travelling in. So very dry and empty. I wish I had seen more of the night's viewing but I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes again, the sky was bright and noise filled my ears.

Acre stood before us and with it, the assassination of William of Montferrat.

-.-.-

(Roughly translated)

On ne permet pas ici des transgresseurs, partent maintenant – Trespassers are not allowed, leave now

Nous vous voulons dire aucun ennui, nous traversons simplement – We mean you no trouble, we're simply passing through

Pourquoi voulez-vous passer à travers? Quelles sont vos affaires? – Why are you passing through? What's your business?

Nos affaires sont notre propres, stand de côté, nous ont laissés passer – Our business is our own, stand aside, let us pass

Stand de côté – Stand aside

Si vous êtes arrêté aux portes de la ville de l'Acre, vous jamais n'êtes apparu ici – If you're stopped at the gates of the city of Acre, you never came through here


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.

A/N: Thank you all for your reviews, they made me smile. I apologize for the last chapter, it was slightly rushed at the end and the French came out a little mingled. The translations will be fixed in future chapters, not to worry. Sleep and years of repressed French aren't a good combination. Once again, all translations and historical notes will be at the end of this chapter, thank you.

Acre wasn't what I expected. I mean, yeah, it's Acre but it just wasn't what I saw in the game. High in the air, circling the city where dozens and dozens of birds; to my guess, vultures and seagulls. Already, the smell of dead fish and salt water hit me hard. "What a stench, ugh." I waved a hand in front of my face to clear the air, but it seemed like I was only making it worse. Sighing, I gave up in hopes that I wouldn't be in the city for too long.

Passing under several stone arches, we finally got to the gates of Acre, surrounded by stalls of those selling their produce, many of them selling the same thing, claiming that their prices were lower. The thought of them trying to outdo the other by continually lowering the prices to eventually everything was free danced in my head, it would almost seem true with this men. Altair ignored them, his horse going to where other horses were, tied up on poles or in stalls, happily munching on feed. There were already people attending to the horses, one of which was a woman. This took me by surprise but then again, things aren't always what they appear. Dismounting from the stallion, I pet the gentle giant's head, thanking him for bearing me through the trip. He can at least rest now and hopefully, thing will go smoothly in Acre.

The feel of the whole place was very familiar. The English language, even though it was heavily accented, felt like I was home again. As much as it felt good to be in a familiar situation, it just brought the pain of being separated from my family that much worse. Still, following Altair in the city, I knew that the heartache would grow even more. I could only hope that the pain would at least subside with every step I took.

Acre was…very…medieval. Very high stone walls, high stone towers with witch cap roofs, and everything was gray, like really gray, it dyed everything. Gray fish, gray clothes, gray skies, gray everything and everywhere. Even the vegetables that were being sold were gray. The only colors was Altair's sash and maybe a few browns here and there, like carts, some stalls and, of course, the feces that littered the corners of buildings, sides of roads, under people's feet, getting squished and disgusting. I was very thankful that my gag reflex was good in the waste area otherwise, I'd be miserable until something clean was presented.

Altair didn't say anything as we were walking, he just kept his jaw clenched, his hands in fists, in a very serious mood and manner. At first, I didn't understand why he was so silent, that is, until an obvious thought passed through my head: if he speaks English, if he ever speaks it, it might be accented. Maybe this is why he never really spoke in the game unless he was in a conversation with someone. I barely had time to properly think about this when a woman comes running up to us, her hands out.

"Please sir, have any money?" she asked in a very cockney accent, her face covered in pox scars, dirt and some scratches, as if she's suffering from an allergic reaction. "I'm poor and starving." Altair didn't say anything, I'm pretty sure he didn't even make eye contact as he sidestepped the woman, continuing on his way. "No, you don't understand, I have nothing," she said now, the tone of her voice getting very upset. I rolled my eyes, keeping an eye on her. "Just a little bit of money, please!" she's now screeching.

Altair looks at me, his head nodded to one direction, telling me to go on ahead, but of course, the woman was now back in front of us. "Please, my family is sick and dying," she tried again, her tone gentle, trying to be pitiful and pathetic to get sympathy and coin. By this point, I was ticked off. Forget what the assassin was thinking, I wanted the woman gone. "Just a few coins, that's all I ask!"

My temper snapped but after getting my shoulder bumped into by the assassin, I bit my tongue, hard. Everyone's family was sick and dying; there was nothing special about her family if everyone was suffering from the same thing. Plague covered the land, disease was rampant, foods were rotten or of bad quality and with the war going on between Richard I and Saladin, hardly anyone had any money for themselves to get by in life, much less give it to others in need.

We tried to ignore the woman and continue on our way, until she threw a rock at Altair, hitting him in the back. Crying out, he turned his head but the woman was already running away, probably to bother someone else. I rolled my eyes before looking at him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said quickly, his voice low, almost like he didn't want to speak in a strange place. Was he scared? Guards were patrolling the area all around, I'm pretty sure one Arabic word is spoken out loud and they'd grab the first chance that they can get, they'd pounce on someone and kill them. Barbaric if you ask me, it's profiling. Still, I kept a close eye on the assassin, even though I was pretty sure all he'd get would be a bruise, well, no, not even that, I don't think.

"Why didn't you stop her or something?" I asked him in English, my voice lowered to a whisper as I move closer to him.

Altair looked at me from the corner of his eye. "We do not harm the innocent," he said just as low, sending chills up my spine as butterflies fluttered in my stomach. He didn't have an accent, it was almost as if he was speaking to me in Arabic, it was still the same voice, just as sexy, just as amazing. My inner fangirl had melted into a pile of goo, begging for more, for darkness to seep in his words, for him to growl in a husky tone. "It's one of our tenants."

I tried to compose the blush from my face and smirked. "Well, maybe you can't, but I can. Unlike you, I'm not in the killing business, though with desperate women, I may make an exception." He snorted, his eyes ducking under his hood, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Over the noise of crowds, of beggars, drunkards, and the occasional herald, I heard moans, moans that froze my blood as childhood fears flooded my head. In alleys, I saw half starved men walking around, bones visible, even from as far away as I was. I moved even closer to Altair, my heart pounding. "They were tortured by Garnier de Naplouse," Altair said, seeing the men as well. Though he pronounced Garnier's name wrong, I couldn't help but think about what the mad doctor had done. Lobotomized, tested on, mistreated, underfed, probably killed on purpose, and now, his patients are running free in Acre, a constant reminder of what he had done.

The cruelties of men never cease to disgust me. We reached a building, stone and gray like many of those around it, but when Altair stopped at a ladder, I realized where we were: another assassin bureau. Climbing the ladder wordlessly, I kept an ear out for any guards who might walk by, but thankfully, no one walked by to ask questions. "It's more socially acceptable to climb ladders than wall, as the guards would not be suspicious," I quoted under my breath, rolling my eyes.

Altair was already waiting for me at the grate but as he jumped down, I gripped the edge of the ivied grate and dropped to the stone floor. The wood bit at my palms, scraping the skin as I let go but thankfully, no splinters entered my skin, though Altair did raise an eyebrow at me. From inside the bureau, we could hear whistling from the rafik inside. "Stay near the door," Altair told me, his tone serious as his eyes looked at mine, the gold orbs hard, telling me to obey. I nodded and did as asked as he walked inside the bureau. Inside, the rafik, an older man with a white beard, his hood raised on his head, was turned, facing his many books. This didn't really surprise me because Malik's bureau had books as well, but as I looked around the bureau from my angle, it was obvious that he had more. "Rafik."

"Word has spread of your deeds, Altair. It seems you are sincere in your desire to redeem yourself," the rafik answered in a bored tone, his eyes and hands busy to find something on his book shelf.

"I do what I can," Altair answered, his voice soft but the hushed tone still sent chills up my back. My inner fangirl was swooning over his voice, even though I was getting a good look of his back. I mentally slapped myself as my thoughts when to his backside, even though it was covered in many layers of fabric. I need to stop thinking like this, he's not mine.

The rafik turned his head; his eyes spotted me as a frown appeared on his face. Already, I'm disliked. "And sometimes you do it well. I assume it is work that reunites us?" he asked, as if that wasn't obvious enough, though his tone was still of a bored one.

"Yes. William of Montferrat is my target." I smiled at his mispronunciation as he rolled the R the wrong way, my inner fangirl giggling in a corner somewhere in my mind. "What can you tell me of him?" This surprised me because he said this in a light tone, respect filling his voice.

The rafik turns to a book on his counter, though there are several books open, it's obvious he's looking for something. His hand hovered over the pages of one of the many books as he answered Altair. "William has been named regent while the king conducts his war. The people see it as a strange choice given the history between Richard and William's son, Conrad." He then smiled and looked up at Altair. "But I think Richard rather clever for it." There is obvious admiration in his voice, almost a smirk in his words.

"Clever how?"

"Richard and Conrad do not see eye to eye on most matters. Though they are civil in public, there are whispers that each intends evil upon the other." I rolled my eyes. The history was obvious; Conrad was a spoiled child who never knew the sting of a belt so of course he'd challenge authority. "And then there was that business with Acre's captured Saracens. In its way, Conrad has returned to Tyre and Richard has compelled William to remain here as his guest."

Altair's hands curled into fists. "You mean his hostage." There was darkness in his voice again; probably upset at the way a son would treat his father.

The rafik only waved his hand at Altair's words, his eyes closed and head turned away. "Whatever you wish to call it," he said, leaning on the counter, elbows on the pages of the book before him, hands draped close to his chest. "William's presence here should dissuade Conrad from acting out."

"I've never been one for politics," said the assassin, his head turned away. I smiled at that though the logical side of me kicked in, screaming that politics is a very serious thing.

"But surely you realize your every action shapes the course of this land's future. You are a politician too, in your own way," he sneered with a sly grin on his face. Oh snap, he's got a point.

Altair snapped back. "As you wish. Now where do you suggest I begin my search?"

The rafik grew serious, sensing the air and stood up straight. "Richard's citadel southwest of here," he began, waving a hand in the air above his head. "Or rather, the merchant in front of it. You'll find the cathedral of the Holy Cross in that direction as well." My inner fangirl screamed, remembering the tallest viewpoint in the city of Acre. Of course, I wanted to see it but my inner fangirl screams that climbing would be fun, until my logical side reminded the fangirl how high up the cross is and if something should go wrong, game over. "It is a popular place and should be filled with talkative citizens," the rafik said in a disgusted tone. No shit, church people talk! "Finally, try the boarder to the west where the Chain and Hospital districts meet. That should start you on your journey." He then turns the other way, back to the bookshelf, an obvious disgust on his face, probably caused by my presence.

"Very well, I won't disturb you further," Altair said, his head nodding from respect before he turned to walk away.

"It was no trouble at all," the rafik said, finding a book and opening it, his eyes scanning the page. As Altair is leaving the bureau, ready to leave to gather information on William, the rafik cleared his throat. "While I have no trouble giving you the needed information to gain knowledge of your target, I'll not have a woman in my bureau. Take her with you."

My breath hitched but Altair just nodded, not questioning the rafik's authority, merely following orders. Following Altair, I could see that the rafik was watching us carefully, making sure that the assassin followed orders and that I would no longer be a problem. I rolled my eyes away from the rafik, disgusted by him as much as he was with me. The man can have his bureau! Sexist…

Still, as Altair pulled me up the wall of the bureau, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of self-consciousness as I stood on the bureau's roof, looking down through the grating to see the pillows of the courtyard. "Altair?" He grunted. Whatever was on my mind suddenly went blank, forgetting whatever it was. "Never mind."

I don't know what I was thinking but I walked away from Altair, I didn't even look back as I took the ladder down, walking away from the bureau, away from the assassin, away to just go and do something. Maybe it'll do me good to step away from a world I know so much and yet so little about. Perhaps I can learn so much from this timeline just by people-watching. "Elisheba," I heard. Looking up the ladder, I saw Altair looking down at me before he crouched, turning his head to look around, keeping an eye out.

"What is it?" I whispered up at him, climbing a few rungs to better hear. "What do you want?"

He looked at me dead in the eye. "Make my mission shorter," he said, very serious.

I shook my head. "I'm not a soothsayer, I cannot give you information that I myself don't know about." He didn't move at all, not even to blink. I sighed and looked away. "I know so much, yes, but not about your mission. Besides, I told you that I wouldn't aid nor hinder your missions back in Masyaf, remember?"

Still, there was no answer from the assassin above me so I sighed. "I'll eavesdrop on many of the guards, but that's it. I'll not help you after this." He nodded, stood and turned away, the prick. I shouldn't be helping him, it's not right, he's supposed to do this on his own, without help. I shouldn't even be here! Yet, no matter how logical it all sounds, I can't help but do as he's asked. I don't know where to go, what to do, I don't even know where to begin. Hopping off the ladder, I sighed and began to walk around the unfamiliar street of Acre.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that Ubisoft has rights to.

A/N: I struggled with this chapter so much, simply because I couldn't get it off the ground at first.

I passed by a blacksmith, working iron into weapons, horseshoes, anything that his forge could craft as the heat from the hot coals warmed me up. The steady rhythm of the hammer on anvil rang out loudly, louder than the heralds that stood on platforms, speaking out to the public. Already, I could hear one belittle Saladin, claiming he is a heretic, a devil amongst those in the Holy Lands, and yet all I hear is blah blah blah. I never really did like the criers, they were all so annoying.

"Be strong, stand firm, do not give up! Without our support, Richard and his men cannot hope to free the Holy Land. We must do all we can to aid them in their cause. Tend to your fields, provide aid to the wounded, and pray for those who sacrificed in service to the Lord. We must all do our part!" I heard, passing by one. The people listening rose up their arms, cheering out with what the herald was saying. By this point, I rolled my eyes, continuing on my way to wherever it was I was going.

Already, I could hear the beggars asking for money, many of them bothering people around me but I ignored them, frustrated with the assassin. "'Make my mission shorter,'" I mimicked, my voice lowering to as deep as I could. "Honestly, what do I look like, an informer?" Speak of the devil; I see one looking all around, as if scared of something. I roll my eyes and continued on my way, ignoring the fact that I have no earthly clue as to where I was going; I was just set on walking.

Many criers, a few beggars, more of Garnier's patients running wild, however, seeing one many holding a skin reminded me that I haven't eaten yet. The man looked tipsy, his face flushed as he sang loudly in the street, something I couldn't quite understand, his accent too thick and his speech too slurred. Drunkards, I never did like them. The poor man, his rags drenched in who knows what, probably weak wine in that skin in his hand and yet, he's singing away loudly, throwing any care he had away, like partials of dust in the wind.

Remembering what I really wanted to do, I looked up ahead, trying to peek over the buildings to see my prize: the tall steeple of the grand church in Acre, the tallest building in the game. My inner fangirl was giggling with every step that I took, begging to climb the tall cathedral, to see everything in the Holy Lands from on top of the church, as far as the eye could see. Inner fangirl rambled on inside my head, even though I should have been paying more attention to the outside world. I heard maybe a few words, but none of it useful as I continued on to the church. I don't know why I agreed to help him on his mission, maybe it's because I wanted to get away from the bureau and the rafik that lives inside it, or because I wanted to help Altair.

Shaking my head, I berated myself. I can't help him out, I'd affect so much then and if I do, then the future would be messed up. I suddenly caught myself in mid-thought. Future? I'm in a popular video game for crying out loud! There isn't really future here, right? Confusion was so thick in my head, almost clouded all of my thought completely, causing me to almost bump into several people, one of them being a guard. Oh, I had to be on my toes when walking around them, anything that might prove to be suspicious and they'd attack like a pack of wild dogs. Already there were civilians being attacked by guards and still life moved on. No doubt Altair would be their savior, ready to defend the people.

The church was so close already and yet, so far; I still had a long way to walk. "Is he there again?"

I heard, but before I could dismiss it as just talk, I heard, "William is always in his citadel, ever since his quarrel with King Richard before his majesty left for Jaffa. He is there now, discussing matters with the king, or so I heard," another voice said. I didn't know where these voices were coming from but I moved close to wherever they sounded close. "He stays there with his men, all loyal to only him."

"I heard there was an attack on him after he arrived in Acre but all those who were opposed were killed." My mind flashed to the gate of William's citadel, it was always open unless there was some sort of quarrel inside the tall walls. "Brutally murdered they were, their arms reaching out from the gates as William's archers picked them off."

I didn't hear much more, all I heard were people screaming about a killing nearby. Altair no doubt. Rolling my eyes, I continued on my way, my inner fangirl leading my feet to the high church. She was pleading the whole time to see it, to climb it, to perform the Leap of Faith off of the steeple. As if I ever would! There were too many risks in climbing that high and only an idiot would climb that high just to jump off. Altair flashed in my head, causing a smile to present itself on my lips. He wasn't an idiot, not by any means, no; he was just one of those people who would do something like that just to get a better view of things at hand.

My stomach roared loudly, my hand going to it to soothe the noise away. I should have eaten that under-ripened fruit Altair had tossed me a day ago but instead, I'm now going hungry. With no money, the pouch filled with the things I looted from the dead men back in Masyaf, I was finding it difficult to pay attention to where I was going exactly. My stomach wasn't really an issue, it was more of the issue of I didn't know where I was going and with how hungry I was, it wasn't a good combination at all.

Sitting on a bench, I sighed as I bit my lip, wanting food in my belly; if not food, then water. A person could live days off of water alone so just a bit would help but just even thinking about drinking the liquid here in this city where the crazies were everywhere, no thank you. What little sun shone through gray clouds hit my face as the people buying at markets spoke loudly, the heralds starting their cries again.

"Be not afraid! Fear and doubt are the weapons of our enemies!" If only you knew, if only you knew. Intimidation was perhaps the most feared weapon of all because even the weakest man could fake strength. "Do not listen to their lies, poisonous would meant to sow the seeds of confusion. If you find yourself tempted, go and pray!" I snorted at this, my hand flying to my mouth as I tried to stifle my giggles, but no such luck. "Ask God for direction!" Oh yeah, like He'll just listen to you when there are millions more seeking His guidance at the same time. "If your heart is pure, He will surely answer."

I couldn't listen to anymore, the whole religious speech was starting to grate on my nerves. I've got nothing against the Christian religion, or any religion for that matter, I just hate it when people go into a religious tangent. Snorting, I rolled my eyes, leaving the bench as I drew closer to the cathedral of Acre. The Holy Lands, what a place to get dropped in: scorching heat, in the middle of a Crusade, little food, little water, my own personal hell. The heat would have been fine to work with, had I had more water and perhaps sunglasses. What I wouldn't GIVE for a pair of sunglasses. With the sun reflecting off of Altair bracer while on the road was just horrible. I never again wanted to see another reflective surface while in the desert again, not while traveling next to Altair.

Something made me stop, like someone stepped on my shadow. I felt this before, always right before the silent woman appeared yet as I looked over to whatever it could have been, all I saw was a little boy child looking up at me with wide gray eyes. We didn't say anything, but as I lowered myself to his level, I could tell that he was different somehow. "Are you lost?" I asked in English, my voice low but friendly as I kept a smile on my face. Reaching my hand out, I inched close to the boy. "Where's your mom, huh?" The little kid said nothing, not moving, not even blinking. I began to worry about the boy's health a little, wondering if he was a homeless orphan or perhaps, he was merely away from his parents. "Come on, I'll take you home," I said, trying to grab a hold of his tiny hand.

What he did though scared me. The little boy was quicker than I was, grabbing my wrist and pulled me in the opposite direction. He was much stronger than any child I had ever met, much stronger than even me, pulling me along side, my back hunched to keep my arm from falling out of socket as my feet tried to keep up with the pace he set us at, running to somewhere quickly, passed more criers, guards, a few Templar knights sprinkled here and there and . Of course, once he stopped, I fell to my knees, my lungs trying to fill themselves with air. "Little man, you have a great grip and all but can I please have my hand back before you pull my wrist out of joint?"

The gray eyed child just looked at me, his grip tightening before he finally let my arm go, or rather, threw my arm down. Hissing with pain, I looked at him, angry that I was hurt but confused by him all the same. Twisting my wrist a few times, I finally looked to see where we were. "It's the cathedral," I whispered, in awe by the sheer size of it. It was much taller in person, one would feel like an ant looking at it head on. The little boy gripped the bottom of my chin, closing my mouth before jerking my head up to see the very top of the steeple. There, like a white vulture, sat a very familiar sight. "Altha-ar?" I meant to say Altair, but with how Mr. Iron Grip had my jaw, squeezing my cheeks, I couldn't properly say the assassin's name.

What happened next, will probably forever haunt me. Altair Jumped.

Pulling my face out of the kid's hand, I looked around for the haystack that I knew was going to be around even though it would probably be a second before a white donned man would fall from the sky. "Side of the church, side of the church, side of the church," I quickly said to myself, running to where I thought I remembered where the haystack was, that is, before a white mass beat me there. Fear froze me, my hands covered the lower half of my face, unable to stifle the gasp that sprang loose. The haystack didn't move. Tears in my eyes, I inched closer to where Altair fell, scared that was I just assumed was true. "Altair?"

Of course, no later had I said that, Altair sprang from the haystack, brushing off straws, scaring and relieving me. "You idiot," I all but yelled at him. "You scared me half to death jumping from that high up! You could have been killed!" Though I was deeply relieved, it didn't stop the tears from flowing from my eyes. Why was I so worked up by this? Wiping the tears from my face, I felt Altair put a hand on my shoulder, a small comfort on his part. I wanted to slap the prick for scaring me but at the same time, all I could do was cry.

He sighed, his hand on the top of my head. "Why are you crying now?"

I slapped his hand away, my anger flaring up again as it quelled my tears. "Because if you die, there's no one here for me then. You're my only connection of getting back home so if you go and off yourself, I'm stuck here!"

The corner of his lips lifted slightly. "Good to know I'm useful for something."

"Shut up."

His eyes lowered under the hood as his jaw clenched. I've learned this about Altair, whenever he finds humor in something, he'll hide his eyes, as if they're so expressive. Though as we walked away from the haystack and away from the church, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. My inner fangirl was highly upset that I didn't climb up that high just to fall down in dead grass, risking breaking my tail bone, a leg, or possibly missing the pile all together and dying.

"Tell me what you've learned," he said, his voice rough, demanding in such a way that sent shivers up my spine.

I blinked and looked at him, or rather, his hood since his steps were longer than mine. "William of Montferrat stays in his citadel with men who are all loyal to him and that no one can get close enough without getting an arrow through their heart."

"Will here be there today?" he asked, my head looking up at him, seeing that he stopped, perhaps to contemplate what was said.

I shrugged. "If he's always there then I suppose that he will be."

He turned to look at me, gold eyes burning. "Show me."

My heart fluttered several times within my chest before I shook my head. "How do you suppose you'll get there? There would be archers everywhere."

Altair nodded, very serious. "I'll take care of them. I've acquired a map that will show where those men will be posted." Pick-pocketed no doubt, that is, unless he went to an informer to gain a bit of information. Still, I rolled my eyes and nodded, following him as his long strides lead us somewhere unknown. I'm pretty sure he knew where he was going but I was still very lost in a large city like this.

"The Saracens are at every turn! We cast them out of Acre and pushed them from the country side, now they retreat to the south, begging Saladin to save them, but he will not succeed, for none can withstand that bite of King Richard's army! He is graced by God, it is only a matter of time, friends, before all the land is ours once more, just as it was meant to be!"

The heralds were crying out again, though Altair seemed keen on listening. "The lion hearted king of England, a strong man devote in his faith, unafraid of anything," I whispered. "He was a good king." I admired Richard, I really did; the man was a very fair and just king with a strong sense of beliefs.

Altair turned his head to look at me. "Do you know him?"

I smiled, looking back at the heralds. "As well as you know Saladin." The assassin's lips lifted ever so slightly as he turned back to the herald. "Trying to get information? Don't waste your time here, there is a herald of William's nearby; I heard him berating his king through William."

"We've turned away from God, as so He punishes us, send hoards of heathen warriors to gather at our gates," the herald began, his voice filling with hate. "But God is also merciful, and our past misdeeds may be forgotten. All we need do is ask, and so I say to you, repent!" I snorted and turned away, pulling at Altair's sleeve. "Lay down before Him and confess your sins. He will forgive, such is His nature, and beg forgiveness we must and only when our hearts and minds are cleansed can victory can be assured."

The afternoon sun burned low, parting through gray skies as much as it could as we traveled to where the herald of William was to be but instead, all that was found was an empty platform. Didn't really surprise me since there were hardly any guards around, however, the initial fear that perhaps I had changed something struck my heart. Was Richard still in Acre or had he already left to go fight Saladin's warriors?

"Night's coming," Altair said, looking up at the sky, the color darkening.

I nodded, looking up as well, seeing that it was indeed getting much darker and that the gray color was dying into the dark colors of the evening. "The rafik doesn't like me," I said out loud. "He probably wouldn't let me in to sleep." He grunted, not really responding. I looked up to the rooftops, spotting a familiar object. "We could turn in for the night."

Altair's eyes followed my own, seeing the rooftops and nodded. The roof gardens, where I first met Altair so many days ago, it seemed like forever. Climbing up to the roof top from boxes, thank goodness for boxes, I crawled in first, holding the fabric back. "I'll take watch," he said, turning away.

My hand reached out and gripped his sleeve. "Altair, you're as human as I am, you need your sell as well. Besides, you do have to assassinate William and you can't do that if you're tired." He didn't look convinced as he pulled his arm away. "Please. Besides, I'll be on my side and you can be on yours." Moments passed, but finally, after some time, Altair finally agree, jumping in as well, his back to a corner, arms crossed. His hood covered his eyes completely, masking and hiding anything that might have proven him awake.

My inner fangirl swooned as I watched the assassin for a few moments before lowering myself to curl up with my back to an opposite wall. Closing my eyes, I heard movement of fabric before the known world became lost in the darkness of sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.

A/N: There will be more historical notes at the end of this chapter. Also, thank you all for your wonderful reviews, however, with everyone telling me to "update soon," I have to say this: I do update every week, at midnight Eastern time zone (that's New York time) on Saturday to Sunday. I thank you all again for your reviews, for the favs, alerts, everything. Thank you all.

Morning came again, with it, loud heralds, the beggars, and of course, the sounds of bustling life. I groaned before stretching, my elbow popping as my finger splayed out in the air. Sitting up, I scratched my neck, seeing Altair standing, peeking out from behind the curtains of the roof garden. "You stayed up all night?" He grunted. "That's not good for your health."

"I'll sleep when I've delivered the feather to the rafik," he said, a quiet seriousness about him. "There has been talk of the king, how he and William were arguing in the night."

I yawned and nodded. "Well, William never really was one to follow order, especially when it comes to his king." My eyes went wide as a hand went to my lips. I spilled more history out but as I peeked up to look at Altair, he was still keeping a watchful eye out. "So…uh, you going to try and get some information from William's herald?"

The assassin finally looked at me, his gold intense as they locked on mine. "Intimidation is one of the many ways to gain information," he said, a deep darkness filling his voice. Shivered traveled along my spine while my inner fangirl began screaming loudly, though when he didn't turn away, his eyes moving down, looking at my jaw, my inner fangirl screamed loudly, swooning as images of him kissing me passed through my head. Wait, why am I thinking like this? "You're bruised again," he said, eyes with mine again.

Huh? I turned my eyes away, lifting two fingers to my face, pressing them in tenderly; what I was feeling was that I was sore where the kid had grabbed my jaw. "He had a harder grip than I thought," I muttered before pulling up my sleeve, seeing a deep bruise where his hand was, seeing where the fingers lay.

"'He?' You went to another man?" He asked, almost sounding suspicious and accusatory as a darkened eye narrowed.

I blushed, realizing what he was thinking before I giggled. "No, not a man, a child." Wait, that sounds even worse! "A child grabbed me."

He didn't look convinced but didn't ask any more questions. However, when he jumped out of the roof gardens, I was immediately reminded of the work that he had to do. He still needed to go to where William will meet up with his guards, to find the herald that calls out against his king but praises the Templar and of course, deliver a bloody feather to the sexist rafik. I have the strangest feeling that I'm going to get a sense of déjà vu.

Climbing out of the roof gardens, I scratched my scalp, relieving in the fact that my itchiness was gone but disgusted by how gross my hair felt and under my nails were white with dead scalp skin. "What I wouldn't do for a shower right about now," I muttered. Oh, I missed my shower. The fact that I could just sit under the water, let it wash over me was wonderful. Shampoo and conditioner were my best friends and this greasy hair is so disgusting, I can't stand it. "I swear, I'm going to be bald by the time I get another bath."

Altair looked at me, like I was crazy and though I was rambling, I sort of did understand where he was coming from; my words were different to him. Still, as he walked across the rooftop, I began to wonder if nearly everything I said was different. Watching the assassin jump off the building, scaring a few people, I smiled. He may be rough around the edges but there are parts of him that just make me giggle. I followed him, though I was slower, easing myself down rather than just jumping. I rather like my legs and ankles intact, thank you. "William will be in there," I said, pointing to what looked like a large fortress, many archers on the roofs. "I can show you exactly."

Altair looked at me before his eyes turned to the large stone citadel. "You know the exact place?" I nodded. "Show me."

Altair seemed…human. It was hard for me to admit it but he seemed like it. I know he could get hurt, the rock the beggar woman threw was proof, I had seen him eat and I'm pretty certain I witnessed him resting at one point, but still, I had always thought he was just a stoic man, only portraying one emotion: anger. Still, as I led him, to the best of my knowledge, to the area where William would lecture his men, a cold hard stabbing pain hit my heart. The large open area in front of the citadel would be Richard would meet with William before leaving for Jaffa, that is, if he hasn't already left yet, and yet, something flashed in my head.

The pain in my heart grew more, the cold blade stabbing deeper in my chest as I remembered, trying to keep a calm look on my face as we passed under the large doorway. The only thing that really lifted my spirits was a guard looking at Altair. "Keep moving, monk." I giggled at that, though Altair merely raised an eyebrow, keeping up with my pace. Passing through many crowds of guards, citizens, and scholars alike, we finally reached the fenced area. The tables were all in place, ladders going to guarded roofs but what chilled my blood was what was before me, a very familiar tower.

A bitter taste fills my mouth but I turn and look away. "Up there is a wonderful viewpoint, where you can see the whole citadel." I closed my eyes, trying to control my voice. "There would be several grips to climbing the tower but the only door leading to the top will be closed and lock. There's a wooden beam sticking out of the top, you can boost yourself up with that until you reach the top. There will be a trap door leading inside the tower and a haystack." I didn't want to look at Altair then, I merely turned and walked away, not wanting to see his reaction, to watch him fall from another great height, or for that matter, to see him in a familiar place. Perhaps it was my inner fangirl mourning the truth or maybe it was merely just me admitting that I could never really have the white donned assassin.

Either way, I still walked away, away from it all. Maybe I could stay here, in Acre, stay where the language is familiar, where I know that I could return to a somewhat normal civilization over the sea, then I wouldn't have to worry about Altair, his fate, of Malik, the strange silent woman, or any of it. The wind blew hard at that moment, almost as if it sensed my thoughts, chilling me to the bones as I left the citadel, trying to find some source of comfort again.

Off in the distance, almost like a squabbling pigeon, I could hear the herald of William, his loud voice echoing off from wherever he was. Drawing near, I could see that he didn't have any crowd around him, that people weren't even paying attention however, I could tell that there wasn't a single soul around who wasn't at least paying attention in some way. "We are too soft with our enemies," he began, almost as if to try and draw a crowd, though failing miserably. I rolled my eyes but leaned against a post of an abandoned shop, trying to seem as if I wasn't actually listening. "With one hand, we engage them, while the other we try to embrace. What good can come of this when our king cannot decide what he truly wants? But William knows, if you would only listen!" However, from what I could see, no one was listening, or at least, not stopping to listen. "Stand up, friends, do not allow yourself to be sent to slaughter based on the whims of an uncertain king!"

Already, I can feel someone draw near me, the presence so close. "You're either lying about being a soothsayer or you have been here before," I heard from a deep whisper.

I lowered my head, a smile set on my lips. "Perhaps, in another life."

"We must rely on men with stronger convictions, men like William of Montferrat!" the herald called out before leaving the steps of a his standing, as if leaving the sanctuary of the guards, of the public, of anyone around him to walk, to stretch out his legs in earnest.

Altair walked in front of me, his hood trained on the herald. My grin grew as I followed as well, not wanting to be a part but to watch nonetheless but as the herald left the public eye and into an alley, I knew he wouldn't last too long, heralds never really do when singing praises of men for coin. Not even in the alley, I saw Altair pound his fists, his eyes turning to see me following, a sickening grin on his own face. As I entered the alleyway, however, I could already see the assassin holding onto the herald by the collar of his tunic, a fist pounding into the poor man's face. I couldn't help but giggle as a dark part of me wished to see blood fly through the air while another part wanted Altair to stop, to leave the poor man alone.

"Stop, ah, enough, enough!" the herald called out, falling to his knees to bow in front of the assassin as if he was some sort of god that had fallen onto earth. "What is it that you want? Gold? I have but a few pieces on me. Take them, take them and go," he said quickly, trying to get rid of Altair. I shook my head, bribery doesn't work on assassin's whose honor is on the line.

But already, I can see Altair's eyes narrow ever so slightly. "It's not gold I seek, but information."

"I know nothing!" the herald cried, trying to sneak away by inching closer to the exit of the alley before he saw me, pleading at me with his eyes, his bloody nose and lip bleeding but they only made the image gross. I turned my head away, keeping an eye out for any guard that may be passing by.

Altair stepped once, as if to tell the herald that it was useless to run. "You know William, tell me how to reach him," he demanded, his tone threatening, almost as if a blade was in it, ready to strike at the man's neck.

The herald grew bold, standing only slight. "It's impossible! He meets with the king!"

I turned to look at the herald, drawing near. "When will the king be gone?" I asked, wanting to know if it was too late or not. If I had screwed up somewhere, in some way…

"Today," the bloody man said, relieving all my worries. "But it won't help either of you. They're sure to argue and then William will return to lecture the soldiers, so it always goes; Richard berates William, William berates his men. He won't see anyone," he said, his tone full of hope as he stood straighter, as if hoping to run.

The corner of Altair's lips lifted as darkness creeped into his voice. "I already told you, I need to see William, I never said he needs to see me." I can tell he has a crazed look in his eye, ready for the next part, to assassinate somebody.

The herald nodded, as if knowing the assassin's profession. "Then our business is done," he said, ready to walk away.

"Not yet, I'm afraid, there is one last thing I need from you," Altair said, catching hold of the herald's shoulder.

Fear seeped back into the man's eyes. "What is it?" he asked, scared of what could come next.

"Your life." The hidden blade unsheathed itself then buried itself into the herald's chest, the deep plunge hitting the man's heart as blood spewed from his lips, the crimson liquid hitting the dirt beneath us. The man was dead before he hit the ground and the blade back where it came from. "This could work to my advantage if William is where you showed me and in a foul mood from his king."

I nodded but stayed my distance from the body of the once scared man now pooling his life's blood around Altair's boots. "It would do to your advantage to grab a feather quickly then," said I, trying to keep an eye on the body while seeming as if I dealt with things of the sort on a daily basis and even though I had seen Altair kill a person in front of me before, it was still terrifying.

"Yes, perhaps the rafik can give me some insight to my questions as well," the assassin said, not really paying attention.

Nodding, I backed away, out of the alley. "I'll stay here, to see if something should happen involving the king and William." Altair didn't waste another second, he merely nodded before climbing up a nearby wall before running to a direction, to the bureau, I would guess, though I'll never go again. I sighed, walking back towards the only place I could, back to where William was to be assassinated, back to where Altair would continue his bloodline. I held myself, feeling that every step I took only led me further down into an emptiness that filled me.

My thoughts flew from Altair though to see if I could come up with a reason as to why I was here, in the Holy Lands, away from my family and friends. No thoughts could come o my mind over why it is that I am here, nothing at all. The tattoo on the inside of my ankle gave no clue, why should it, I drew it there myself. Sighing, I sat down on a bench, it surprisingly empty but then again, this was neat the citadel, one would have to be stupid to start something near the very place where the guards where coming in and out every day.

However, this didn't stop people from walking around, whispering amongst themselves, trying to stay out of harm's way. "I heard that he's starting something up at the docks, is it true?" I overheard from one person, his pace set at a fast speed as he and his companion walked by quickly, their nervous footsteps making them bounce rapidly as they turned a corner. The docks? Could they be talking about another target? I bit my lower lip, keeping this thought in mind.

"Make way for the king!" Someone called out, my head snapping up to look at the citadel, many people circling in front of guards to catch a glimpse of their king. Thankful I wasn't too late, I quickly joined the crowd, hoping to at least know what was going on.

Already I can see several men emerging, many on tall armored Clydesdales, one in front wearing a brilliant shade of red, its head high in the air as its bearer was leaning to his right, talking to another man walking on his own two feet. "Three thousand souls, William, I was told they would be held as prisoners and used to barter the release of our men," the man on the horse said, his accent French and thick. Peeking over the shoulders of the guard, I caught sight of flaming red hair, knowing immediately that it was King Richard the Lionheart.

The man beside him must be William, Altair's target. He seemed familiar, that was for sure, with that same hairstyle that he had in the game, gray edging at his temples, with proud lines on his high forehead. "The Saracens would not have honored their end of the bargain," he told his king, keeping an eye on him. "You know this to be true, I did you a favor," he continued, pointing to Richard.

Richard laughed, though it wasn't out of humor, but in a mocking tone as he stopped his horse, his party stopping as well. "Oh yes, a great favor indeed. Now our enemies will be that much stronger in their convictions, fight that much harder-"

"I know our enemy well," William protested. "They will not be embolden but stricken with fear."

Richard's eyebrow arched as his heels nudged his great horse to circle the appointed regent. "Tell me, how is it that you know the intentions of our enemies so well?" He stared down at William, a deep hatred filling his voice. "You who have forsaken the field of battle to play at politics."

"I did what was right, what was just!"

"You swore an oath to uphold the work of God, William," the king roared, his hand rising to the heavens. "But that is not what I see here." William's eyes lowered to the ground as his king finally made full circle around him, his fists clenched in rage. "_Non_, I see a man who has trampled it!"

William bowed his head, his fists relaxing as he looked up at the king once again. "Your words are most unkind, my liege, I would hope I might have earned your trust by now."

"You are Acre's regent, William, sent to rule in my stead," the king said, as if appalled by the man beside him. "How much more trust is required? Perhaps you would like my crown?"

William took a step closer to his king. "You miss the point!" William spat out. "But this is nothing new."

The king gave a satisfactory smile and turned his head away. "Much as I like to waste my day, trading words with you, I've a war to fight," Richard said, his tone meaning that the conversation was at an end. "We'll have to continue this another time." His head was forward again as his horse moved, leading the party of mounted guards, flag bearers, and other cavalry to the battlefield.

"Do not let me delay you then, Your Grace," William said with a bow as all the men on horses rode off as well. When all had finally left, he stood straight again, turning to his men but keeping an eye on the back of his king. He muttered something under his breath before walking to a guard, hand on his sheathed sword the entire time, as if anticipating an attack. "Send word that I wish to speak with the troops. We must ensure that everyone is doing their part. Warn them that any negligence would be severely punished; I'm in no mood to be trifled with today," he ordered, returning to his citadel, anger falling from him in constant waves.

The guard nodded his head, his hand to his heart. "Yes, milord."

Without turning to look behind, William raised his hand. "The rest of you, follow me." Already many of the guards that were blocking the citizens from the king quickly joined William in return to his citadel. The people of Acre began to scatter again, some happy to have seen their king ride of to join in with the battle. Looking back from the king's path to the citadel, I tried to understand why it was that Richard and William never really saw eye to eye; they both seemed passionate in their work in the Holy Lands and yet they didn't like each other.

I shook my head. Even at medieval politics, I'll never really understand the way things are. However, looking back at the citadel, I caught sight of a white figure climbing up the wall of the citadel already, climbing from one beam to another. Altair was already on his way to assassinate his next target, jumping from one part of the citadel to another. I would have liked to have followed him but I know that I couldn't, I'd be a burden, not to mention, I can't fight worth a flip. I have no practice in the art of swordsmanship, I can't handle a knife unless it's in the kitchen and the only good I can really do is throwing a punch or two before my hand would give in to the pain.

Where can I go where the guards wouldn't bother me, where I could just sit in peace and quiet without worrying about the assassin, somewhere other than the bureau, maybe? From a hill, I can see the cathedral, a sanctuary to any and all who need it and with the way things are, I may need it. The only problem with staying at the cathedral would be that I have no idea how to get back into touch with Altair and that would not be a good thing in returning to Masyaf.

I guess I have no choice but to return to the bureau but I'll not go in, not with that old rafik there to just shoo me away. Climbing up on boxes and finally on to the roof of one building, and it was a lot of effort, I looked around, trying to find anything familiar that would point me out to the bureau itself but nothing, just the large cathedral, roof gardens, and towers sprinkling the area. Maybe I could run across the rooftops to see if I could find the bureau and just wait for Altair nearby? Sure, why not, if he can do it, why can't I? Yet the thought of falling off and breaking something or getting shot at my guards doesn't seem to appealing and death became so much more scarier than I could ever possibly imagine it.

I've already had one near death experience, do I want to face another? I bit my lower lip, fear gripping me. "Come on, you can do this, you can do this, just don't look down and judge distance before you jump," I whisper to myself before taking a deep breath and began my job across rooftops. I pray that all the buildings are connected in some way, I really didn't want to fall to my death.

-.-.-

Richard the Lionheart did have a French accent in the game, that I did keep true, however, looking on his background, he did have French in his family as well, suggesting that he would have kept some of the accent even though he was king of England.

Even though I couldn't exactly portray William outside of the one scene with Richard, (sorry, I believe in an OC with weakness and faults so she's not following), he was to be a fair regent, according to history, and that he didn't really yell at his men, more like encouraged them to be the best that they can.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed, only copies of the games.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, though as few as they were. I'd like to get more, even if they are critiques, I don't mind, just please, a few words would be very beneficial. Please and thank you!

Why was this so much easier to do in a video game than it was to do in person? Logic hit me as it reminded me that in a game, I don't have to worry about slipping and falling and breaking my neck, that it was only a game and therefore, I wouldn't be hurt, I would just restart at the last save point. Though it made sense, I still tried to ease myself over stone bridge that connected one building to another, hearing people beneath me talking about how crazy I was. Oh yeah, crazy fangirl, moving across buildings as a snail's pace, look out!

I would have rolled my eyes, I really would have, had I not been concentrating on the stonework beneath me. I didn't want to fall, oh God, please don't let me fall. It's not yet my time…right? My time would have been less than a thousand years in the future, in a different world, when that truck hit my car, right? Stepping carefully, I successfully passed from one building to another. "Yes!" I shouted, my hands in fists as I jumped for joy.

Of course, the short lived victory was, well, short lived. Great, just half a city away now, maybe. Sighing, I shook my head as I continued on my trek above the streets of Acre. "Hey, you're not supposed to be up here! Leave now, peasant!" I heard, though after raising two fingers to them, the equivalent of the middle finger, I ignored them, that is, until an arrow bounced right in front of me, causing me to squeak and turn to the archer. "Get down now!"

"Alright, I'm going, I'm going!" Archers in Acre, better yet, archers anywhere, are highly annoying. What I wouldn't give for them all to be gone. Still, I'd rather not risk getting an arrow in my side so I quickened my pace. Where am I going though? The bureau couldn't be too far, could it? A map would be useful but then I'd need a "you are here" dot to show me where I am. Wait, what am I going on about? I can't even read a map! Ugh, whatever, I'll suffer through this. Besides, it can't be too far now, right? Right?

Picking up the pace, I kept an eye on the rooftops of the buildings, just in case the roof should suddenly disappear beneath foot. That would be a riot, just be walking around like a total idiot then, without warning, just plunge to the ground below. What a wake-up call that would be.

The rooftops aren't leveled with each other; one would be a foot or so higher or lower, or there will only be like a few inches of difference between them, it's so odd. Some I don't even realize because it's just a small difference, however, there are the few that have at least a foot or more of difference. Those I have to worry about, whether it's watching my step so I don't fall over or if I might have to climb it. What I wouldn't give for some…oh God.

There, right in front of me, was a space between the buildings, and of course, the only way from building to building was either by jumping, which I certainly won't do, or by jumping onto a piece of wood from a construction site. I sighed before looking around, trying to find another way across the space or perhaps boxes or a cart to jump down on to the climb back up. There is no way in hell that I'd jump the space, there is simply one too many possibilities that something could go wrong and even though the space wasn't too far apart, it just simply wouldn't do, no, no, not this fangirl, thanks.

Walking around, I finally located a set of boxes climbing up the wall, a guy grabbing a few things from inside before walking away, carrying what looked like some sort of fruit, I'm not sure, something that just seemed like it was gross. Still, after he left, I eased myself down, testing the strength of the box before letting all of my weight on it. Bad move. One moment, I'm gently easing myself, and the next, my knees are inside the box, the rotten wood collapsed under my weight. I'm in so much trouble.

Everything had gone silent once my feet hit the disgusting rotting fruit, the wood splitting loud enough to gain everyone's attention. "You!" I look up from my feet to see the man who was recently at the now broken box, was pointing at me, his face red with anger. "You! What do you think you're doing!"

I scrambled to get out, my hands up in defense. "It was an accident, I swear it."

"Guards! Guards!" Already, I fell over, my foot caught on the edge of the box's side before taking a tumble to the ground. Still as I saw armored men coming towards me, many with short blades drawn, I quickly stood, running off to hopefully get away.

Why, why, why, why! "It's was an accident!" I shouted, running away. Already, I can feel my legs burn, my lungs begin to protest but still, and I kept running. I just have to find a bench, a haystack, or even someone to help, maybe I could get away, maybe… Highly doubtful though, not with how my asthmas was, or even worse, if I should suddenly slow down, I'd be caught within seconds. Just keep running, just keep running, just keep running, just keep running. A person can run away faster when they are scared rather than when they are upset, right? I certainly hope this is true because these men were gaining. Maybe I should have just sat where I was, Altair could have found me there, right?

I quickly turned a corner, scaring a few people along the way, that is, until I saw it, my only source of relief: a haystack. I had to remember where this was; I needed it to remember it, my head was on the line. Come on, you can do it, just keep running! Already though, my stomach was ready to give in as a stitch pulled at my side, my lungs burning as darkness began to eat away at the corners of my eyes. No, no, please, just a little more time, wait until I get to safety, please! But it was too late, I was beginning to see blurs of people.

My asthmas began to affect me, my sight leaving as my lungs complained for the much needed air. I don't know why I go blind whenever I have an asthmas attack, it's so weird- an arrow barley missed me! I can't think right now! My feet were pounding at the earth beneath me before I slid around a corner, the slide too fast for my weak body to keep up with as my pant leg went up, my leg feeling the rough cobblestone beneath me, my hip bruising from the contact but still, I scrambled up to keep running.

How long can I last? Taking another turn, I hid behind a barrel, tucking myself in a little ball as I saw guards running by. My breath was heavy and my heart pounded in my ears but I still couldn't relax, I had to find that haystack again. Peeking around the corner, to the best of my abilities, I saw nothing out of the ordinary, standing up to follow the trail that led me back to that haystack.

I'm glad I didn't hear any more people calling for guards but as I collapsed into the haystack, I let my asthmas take over, it had already stolen my sight, go ahead, take my body now. Darkness was my friend as I felt the cold shadows creep into my mind to knock me out. Go for it, have fun. Already, I feel my breath deepen to get air in my lungs, though I sound as if I'm dying. Come on, control your breathing, you have to stay awake. But already, my muscles have given up, I can't move, I can't…move…I can't…can't…ca…

-.-.-

Everything was heavy, my head, my heart, my whole body, it was all heavy, I can't move at all. Still, as I crack open my eyes, with much difficulty, I see nothing but a dark yellowy golden…something all around me. I can hear a slight rustling with every twitch my body makes, as if I'm in a lot of paper or something, I don't know. I'm curled up, I know this much, I don't know if I'm visible from the public though, I can't exactly move just yet. Joy, the pains of waking up from an asthmas attack. However, I hear something, something that's moving nearby. Memories flood my head as I remember I'm in a haystack in Acre in the year 1191, I had to hide because I accidently broke a box holding rotten fruit and now, there is something in this haystack with me, something that's moving.

Something touches my fingertips, something small, almost light enough to barely feel. What is it? I want to close my eyes again, to let the heaviness leave me as my body recovers but as I'm about to roll over to find a comfortable spot, as if, I see it. It's small, brown, and, oh God, it's a mouse. I want to giggle at myself that I was stupid for believing it was something ridiculous like a snake or something but instead, it's just an innocent little field mouse in the hay pile with me.

"You should get out of here," I whispered hoarsely. "There could be a snake or something nearby that eats cute little things like you." The little mouse only perked up its head a little before it began to nibble at my sleeve. "Hey, stop that." I twitch my arm but it doesn't startle the mouse. "I said stop," I say a bit louder, still nothing. "I said stop!" By this time, the mouse had gotten the sense that maybe I wanted it gone and left. I sighed. I couldn't stay here, not with mice, rats, and who knows what else is in here and I seriously don't need to get sick.

Sitting up, the hay lifting away from me as my head peeked out, I could see that it was well within nighttime in Acre. I'm pretty sure that Altair had already completed his mission. Sighing, I stood up, walking from the hay and began to brush myself off. I don't know how but along the way of running and in the hay pile, I lost my shawl and my hair had come undone, it was now falling in curly waves. I have to admit, I loved my hair after the braids were gone, but now, this was highly annoying. Still, I walked to find my bearings in this large city. Where was everyone? It was like it's a ghost town, not a crier in the streets, not a beggar, a patient, no one. I'm pretty sure the guards were gone as well.

Maybe I can find Altair while I'm on my way to the bureau? Doubtful, he'd be in the bureau most likely, if he's even here in Acre. I wouldn't be welcomed back to the bureau, the rafik won't have anything to do with me simply because of my gender but I believe it's because of something else, I'm not sure, I don't think I ever want to know, no, most definitely not.

Walking down the quiet and still roads of Acre, I could have sworn that it would have been colder considering that I was in a port city and also in a desert environment so it was confusing but the humidity was oh so welcomed. Climbing up a nearby ladder, I proceeded in finding the bureau, with only the half moon's light to guide my eyes. Darkness was everywhere and it didn't help that the moon's light was so weak. Perhaps if she was full like she was back days ago, nearly a week or two, I would find the bureau easily. I paused in my steps. Had it been a week since I had last seen Malik? That would mean that it would have been this long since I had last seen my parents, having last spoken to my friends.

I have to find a way home, a clue, hopefully, a phrase or even a dream would send me back home, anything. As I carefully made my way across three buildings, my footing slipped when I heard the soft hoot of an owl. I fell hard on my leg, banging my knee against the brick work of the roof I'm on, no doubt of a home. Still, I didn't make a noise as I waited for the answering call of the wise bird. But nothing, everything was still again. Not even the waves of the port could be heard from where I was, it was almost a bit frightening. That hoot scared the living daylights out of me though.

Now limping and hobbling across, I sat on a small box that sat on the edge of one roof to another, drawing my foot out of my boot and lifted my pants leg to see my newest wound. As dark as it was, I could see black liquid pool at my knee, a skid no less but with how small it was, it would be healed within a few hours and scarred within a day or two. Why is it that before I came here, I was a perfectly normal person, having a job and everything, never getting hurt, molested, slapped, nothing, and yet I come here, not of my own free will, mind you, and I'm getting all sorts of horrors thrown at me as if I'm the universe's pincushion.

I wanted to blame someone, but nothing came to mind. I couldn't blame Altair, he tolerates me at best, I couldn't blame anyone in Masyaf, in Jerusalem, Damascus, or even here in Acre. I bit my lip, hard. The taste of blood from the inside of my mouth reminded me that I was still alive, I was still human and that I was prone to accidents and this scrap on my knee was indeed an accident. Besides, I had bigger things to worry about, like how the hell did I get here?

Sticking my foot back in my boot, fixing the leg of my pants as I limped back to wherever it was that I was going, I began to wonder about my life back home. By all accounts, I had been here for several days and yet, was time still moving back with my family, my friends? Was my boss angry I didn't show up at work, was she worried? I knew my mother would be worried, that she would rile up the whole family so that they'd all never sleep until I was home again. Would my brother be worried, would he learn how to drive just to find me? I wish that I was home, as fun as being here in this world, this game, was, I want to be home, with my mother to hang out with, my father to pal around, my brother to have our sibling argues.

I'm homesick, I've been homesick for this whole time but distractions kept appearing. "Looky what we have here, mates." I turn my head to see a few guards standing around, at least four of them. "A little birdy been hurt," one of them said, his accent so thick I could barely make out the words.

"Poor little birdy, think her wing's been broken?"

"All the more reason to take her in our care." Oh hell no. No, no, please God, no. I wanted to turn tail and run but I was frozen with fear. I wouldn't be able to outrun these men. "Come over here, love, we won't hurt you," one said, his voice filled with mock concern, his friends snickering like snakes.

I bared my teeth, hunching my back. "Fuck you!" I shouted, trying to seem unafraid when I knew that these men could over power me. My heart pounded in my ears and throat, fear shaking me but I still held my ground.

The men laughed openly. "We'll get to that soon enough, come on, let's be friends, at least for tonight."

I'm already reaching for the blade in my boot, but I knew I couldn't do this. "You men are nothing but swine," I hissed out, but unfortunately, I had said it in Arabic.

This came as a shock for both me and the group of men. "A heretic! Get her, she's a spy for that pig Saladin!" The order hit me hard as I turned to run. I can't let this leg bother me, I have to put all my weight and pressure on it. I had to find a way down from the building, somewhere to find a haystack but as I'm passing by roof gardens, I realize that with every step I take, they're keeping with my pace. "Kill the heretic!"

I don't know how I did it but I jumped from one building to another, only to fall short. As I braced myself for impact however, I was surprised to hear the soft hush all around me. I'm in another hay pile but as I'm holding absolutely still, I heard one of them spill my location. Time to move! My asthmas was going to kick in again, and I didn't want to pass out near the horny men. Entering a large courtyard, I paused for a second to see that I was in front of the large cathedral of Acre.

I recognized it immediately but didn't have time to gawk and stare. Wait, it's a church, churches hold sanctuary! Rushing to the door, I'm pounding on it with all my might. "Sanctuary! I call for sanctuary!" I scream, fearing the men behind me. "Sanctuary!"

"Sanctuary isn't for a filthy heretic like you!" one guard yelled, coming close to me but as he reached out to grip my arm, I fell inside the cathedral, landing on the smooth and cold surface beneath me. "That woman is a heretic and a spy!"

I turn to see that a priest is now blocking the doorway, his hands out wide. "This child has called for sanctuary of the church and God provides safety for all who seek it."

As two of the guards are sheathing their weapons, one points his own sword at the old man. "We don't care, she is a heretic, speaking the language of the barbaric heathens that dwell under Saladin. She is to come with us now or if not, we will be forced to take drastic measures!"

Already, I'm cowering in fear, pulling myself deeper in the church. "Then take this up with William, he will see to it if your claims are right or wrong, until then, she is to stay in the church."

"William is dead, you old fool! That whore behind you saw to it that he died!"

The priest waved his hands, dismissing the men. "Be gone with you!" He said in a deep tone and shut the heavy door in their faces. "Men chasing after a helpless child, such atrocious acts." He then looked at me, his face kind though it held an anger. "Child, are you alright?" he whispered, his hand reaching out to touch my knee but as he did, I hissed in pain. "You are wounded."

"It's a scratch, Father, nothing more to be concerned about, it will heal with time," I said, standing slowly. "Thank you for answering my call for sanctuary."

"God heard your plea, child, and He answered. I fear though, that your sanctuary will be short lived," he admitted softly. "Sanctuary in Acre is never long lived, not with assassins roaming in the country side."

I blinked and nodded. "That is understandable, Father, however, I should hope that it would only be for tonight." I hoped I was right, Altair couldn't leave me behind, would he? The priest nodded before turning to leave, perhaps to a bed where he once was. "Father, if it would be alright, may I stay here for the night?" I needed a bed, yes, but I didn't want to bother the priest any longer. "I would feel safer being near His cross than in a bed, away from His protection."

The gentle man nodded and waved over the large area of where mass was held. "His protection is all around as long as you claim sanctuary."

He parted without another word, something I was truly thankful for, leaving for his warm bed. Creeping at the door, I opened it only slightly, seeing the group of guards now talking with others about keeping me inside. I sighed and shut the door. "If You really are there, please help," I whispered out in the empty space before walking to the altar, curling up against a pillar, my knees close to my chest as my arms wrapped around them. My butt would fall asleep like this but right now, I didn't care.

-.-.-

Morning came and with it, the calls of the priests as the smell of incense filled my nose, the light shining in the colored glass blinded me. I guess I could see why many thought churches were so gorgeous and now I see why, the glass and the religious figures everywhere were the crowning jewel of the stoic religion. The doors were opening for morning mass and fear fills me. If I'm trapped here forever, I don't want others to see me living here as if I'm some type of weak person.

Though as I stand, rubbing my butt to get feeling back in it, I see a group of scholars leave. I sighed before walking to view the altar of God, the golden cross in the church as still as the air last night. A deep peace fills me, almost as if I am being accepted by something. I closed my eyes, my head bowed, whispering my prayer of thanks, though this religion is not my own. "I never suspected you for a Christian," I heard whispered nearby.

Turning my head, I saw Altair watching me. Of course he'd sneak in through the scholars. "I'm not Christian, however, it's polite to thank God when in a church," I whispered back. Turning back to the cross, I try to seem aloof even though my inner fangirl was screaming her head off about something. "I thought you left for Masyaf."

I heard him snort. "Al Mualim sent a pigeon yesterday, saying he had a gift for you. To leave without you would only strip what rank I have earned away again. I'd be forced to restart my assignment."

Letting out a soft snort, I grinned. "Glad to know you care." I turn to look at him. "I've called for sanctuary last night, I can't leave this place unless I desire a guard to kill me for speaking your tongue."

His golden eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't have done that," he answered in English.

"So says the man who saves civilians from guards by speaking one word in Arabic." His eyes hide under his hood. "I suppose you have a plan to get me out of here?" He nodded. "Good, I'm starving."

His chuckle echoed in the large room as he guided me out of the church.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Ubisoft made.

A/N: yeah, sorry about the double emails last week guys, I forgot to Spell/Check and yeah…that was my fault, I'M SORRY! Also, rating has gone up for language and future blood and death so yeah… There will be historical and language notes at the bottom of this chapter again.

I was secretly happy that Altair went out of his way to find me, even if it was because his master had a gift for me, whatever it was, but at the same time, I was a little apprehensive. Sure, I didn't want to see ungrateful or rude, but still, he's got the Apple of Eden, he's wicked scary with it. Altair didn't seemed fazed by this though, it was like he didn't even care that he was told to get me back to Masyaf alive. "Here," he said, tossing something orb shaped at me. "Starved, huh?"

I grinned, holding in my hand a pomegranate. "Please, sir, have any money, I'm poor and sick and hungry?" I asked, trying to sound and look pathetic. His lips went in a flat line but I could see his honey colored eyes lighten up just a little bit. However, I couldn't keep a smile off my face, it had been a while since I joked around, even if my companion was a stoic assassin. I wanted to nudge him, to tell him to get a personality, but he was a dangerous assassin and I was just a fangirl not even from this world, much less this time. "Fine, be a stick in the mud."

Taking a bite of the fruit, I had to admit, this was much better than the piece he had given me the other day, much sweeter. Licking away the juice before it fell down my chin, I kept my pace even with his. "Oh, hey, what was that fruit you gave me other day?"

"Litchi."

"Come again?" What the hell was that?

His hood turned in my direction. "It's a fruit." Oh smart. "It's traded from one of the orients."

I blinked before rolling my eyes. "It was disgustingly unripe." I heard him snort but didn't say anything else. Still, the pomegranate was yummy and sweet. Spitting out the seeds, I could hear guards all around inquiring about an assassin, stopping everyone would possibly seemed suspicious. "How did you find me?"

"You passed a safe house," he said as if it was the easiest thing to explain. I didn't push the issue anymore, I wasn't really too concerned on how he found me, just that he did. Shrugging it off, I spat out the seeds that gathered in my mouth, wiping away any saliva and juice that dripped out from my lips with the back of my hand. Altair didn't seem to notice, not that I wanted his attention anyways, but there was something about it that irked me.

Perhaps it's because my inner fangirl was calling out for some attention. I usually kept her sated when I was home, looking up several things that made her happy, something that made me outwardly squeal and giggle but now, she had become restless and therefore, my actions were caused due to a lack of, I don't know, a lack of cute or amazing parts. Sighing, I bit and finished the last of the fruit, the sweet juice staining my lips but I never would have really noticed or cared. It's not like I was trying to gain any attention.

Maybe my inner fangirl needed to be satisfied again? Looking over at the assassin, I knew that he was her target and I do have to admit, the man is so good looking, like, wow, but still, I have to keep my distance from him. He's not mine, he'll never be mine. Looking away, I failed to hear him talking to me, that is, until he snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Huh? What?" I asked, my head snapping up to look at him.

The assassin stared down at me, a frown on his face. "Have you heard nothing I've said or were you drifting?" My cheeks bloomed red from embarrassment, my answer clear. The frown set deeper and I could see a storm rumbling in his golden eyes, something telling me to fear the future.

He didn't say anything after that, not even repeating what he had said when I was daydreaming; he was obviously not happy with me and something told me that I should be careful around him, not because he would hurt or kill me, but something just as bad. I did something wrong, I know I did, I ignored him. Holding my arms close, I looked away to the ground before looking back up. Altair didn't look back at me, he's only paying attention to getting a way out of Acre, not that I minded, but the fact that he wasn't going to say anything to me, it was almost like he was punishing me.

I wanted to tear up and start crying, I felt the painful prickling of tears in my eyes but I had to swallow them back, I couldn't cry, not here, not in Acre, not in front of Altair again, no. I need to grow out of it. Instead, I followed without a word, my eyes on his feet the whole time as I fell back a few steps. Silence was the only thing that passed between us even though the city of Acre was still busy and teaming with life.

Heralds were still calling out, beggars were still begging, guards were still patrolling, everyone seemed to just go on with life, and I knew that it would but still, something inside felt like it shouldn't. I was acting selfish, acting stupid, acting like a child that I was not too long ago and I was ashamed by my actions. How could I continue to act like this? I'm cranky and angry for some odd reason, the only problem was, I don't know what the reason was.

However, when Altair stopped, I stopped, wondering exactly what was going on. His hand was off to the side, low but his palm to my, telling me to stay back. Peeking around his shoulder, I could see guards in front of a gate of Acre, which surprised me by how far we had gone in just a short amount of time. I didn't expect us to reach a gate so soon. Still, the guards were speaking in a mixture of French, English, and what sounded like German. We were just shy a few feet from one but as he turned his head to look our way, one of the guards spoke up, pointing at Altair. "Meuchelmörder!" He shouted, alerting the other guards. "Meuchelmörder! Meuchelmörder! Stellen sie sicher, dass er nicht die stadt verlässt!"

Altair didn't waste any time, once the guards came his way, he drew his short blade from the sheath on his back, holding it with the blade following his forearm. I squeaked and backed up, trying to stay out of the way, I seriously didn't want to meet the edge of the assassin's blade. As I pressed myself to the sidelines, people all around me are becoming worried, many of them dropping their items. Already, the guards had pulled out their swords, all of them ready to fight Altair. Of course, when one of the guards came at Altair suddenly, the assassin had an evil grin on his face and once the guard had stepped forward, Altair twisted his body around, spinning as his knife slit the guard's throat before turning to another guard, a sickening grin on his face, almost like a twisted evil was possessing him.

I had seen the grin and cracked up right there, giggling before covering my face with my hands while people all around me were freaking, running around like headless chickens, screaming about how Altair just murdered someone and calling guards, even though there were quite a few present. I don't know, this whole situation seemed funny to me, simply because Altair had grinned like a possessed man. It always made me giggle but to see it here, I was giggling even more.

The way Altair moved with the short blade, it was almost like a dance, the way the fabric of his robes flowed as he twirled, slashing the necks of the guards or deterring them to attack him with their swords, it was almost like a ballet of blades. Of course, no amount of slapping away the sharp blades would be so smooth, one of the guards had grinned as crimson stained his blade. From what I could tell, he had managed to hit Altair but the assassin didn't appear wounded. How could blood be on the sword if there wasn't a wound on Altair? Maybe it was another guard's blood, I'm not sure, I got confused in some of the silver flashes when the assassin punched away one of the guards, the man falling on his face and the sword fell from his grip.

The blood was beginning to bother me, I couldn't exactly tell who it came from and the thought of Altair being hurt was painful to even think about. When I was home playing, I wouldn't really care how hurt he got because I knew that he would go through with it, kill everyone and run away while his health went back up but then again this wasn't a game, not anymore, this was happening in front of me, as real as my own person and I was scared. Altair would manage to survive, right? He's the strongest assassin I know so he's got to pull through, he's got to win. My inner fangirl was sobbing and squealing all at once as my hands balled in fists, my nails digging into my palms. He'll survive, I know he will, he's got to.

A guard came at Altair from behind and with how the assassin was fighting two men in front of him, I doubt that he would have noticed. Altair, look out! I wanted to scream it, to warn him but when I opened my mouth, no words came out, only silence. My fears were put to rest however when he turned around, breaking the guard's leg but stomping down on the knee, the leg bending backwards at a funny angle. I winced from the odd crunch that the bones made but as the man doubled over, screaming about his leg, Altair wrapped an arm around the man's neck, as if in a headlock and jumped. The screaming stopped with another sickening crunch as the guard fell down, his neck now at a funny angle, a broken neck. The assassin watched as the guard fell, drawing a throwing knife from his belt and threw it at another guards, the blade buried deep in the man's neck, a gurgling noise coming from the dying man as blood bubbled from under the blade.

Two of the guards had seen this happen and pulled back from the assassin, fear etched on their faces as they turned heel and ran away. My eyes followed the guards but as I turned back to the fighting assassin, it became obvious that he was winning against the fights with the guards, a lot of them dead on the ground, their blood spilled all over the gray cobblestone beneath us, abandoned swords gleaming in the sunlight and the assassin fighting them scaring those who were left behind by the dead and the cowards. One of the guards threw down his sword at Altair's feet, screaming something loudly before running away, a sign that he was the better fighter and that he had given up. There were two other guards left, both of them looking from each other to Altair but with how the assassin was standing, the short blade covered in lifeblood, dripping onto the ground below, it was clear how terrified they were.

"Give up, give up," I whispered to no one. "Just go and run away, don't die for a hopeless cause." They didn't have to die, they were only following orders, they didn't need to die. But die they did, both of their deaths swift from a quick slash at their necks, blood draining from their faces as it flowed down the fronts of their bodies.

The assassin reached down to one man and when I thought he would loot the guards, he actually swiped his blade on their clothes, cleaning his blade as best as he could before he stood up and gracefully sheathed the blade on his back once again. Almost as if it never happened, he continued on his way out of Acre, his mood obviously better that before the fight. Tiptoeing around the bodies of the men, I followed closely behind, trying to keep up with the assassin even though I was pretty sure he wasn't even paying attention to me following or not.

Still, once outside of the walls of Acre, I turned back, almost wishing that we had been there longer so I could go back and try and find some sort of person I could have possibly related to, to find answers as to why I'm here, anything, but instead, we were on a timeline and that time was the time of Altair's missions, of how fast he should kill his target, how fast he should get from one place to another, everything just seemed to be based around how fast things had to get done. It was almost confusing and upsetting. Altair's hand went to his hood, a shrill whistle echoed out in the air. He knew how to whistle with fingers in his mouth? I almost wanted to ask him how he could do that but at the same time, I stayed my distance, trying not to think about anything.

Four more day of traveling to get to Masyaf, to go to Al Mualim, to learn the name of another target then travel to the next location. I didn't want to travel for so long, not with a grumpy assassin who, for some odd reason, was upset with me, and certainly not alone for so long. As the beating of hooves came near, I sighed as I looked up, seeing Altair looking back at me. We didn't say anything, not a single sound passed between us as the horses drew near. As my male nudged his nose against my shoulder, I smiled, wrapping an arm around his head and scratched behind the large ears. The horse nickered quietly as I went to its side, pulling myself up slowly. I still wasn't used to mounting and dismounting from a horse, I probably wouldn't ever get used to it but still, my horse stayed still and patient with me.

Once fully on the horse, I scratched a spot by the saddle horn, watching as the large eyeball rolled and closed from pleasure. I smiled, looking back at the assassin as he pulled himself up as well, the white mare rearing up before giving chase to the wind. Altair was in a hurry, that was for sure and as I followed I couldn't help but question why. Why's he so eager to get back to Al Mualim, was there something that needed to be answered?

I felt as if I should know these answers but the questions were not asked so I couldn't give what wasn't specified. Sand was kicked up from the hooves of Altair's horse, dusting the hot air, both stinging and hurting me before I pulled on my horse's reins, making him move to be beside Altair. My lungs were still recovering from the night before and I couldn't have them be hurt anymore right now, not if I wanted to continue to breathe without dying.

The assassin and I traveled hard for well into the late afternoon when the horses slowed down on their own, sweat covering their bodies as foam fell from their lips. Patting my horse's neck, I felt sorry that I had ran the poor beast so hard without stop but I did to stay caught up with the assassin next to me. Water, these horses needed water, they were sweating too much, their heads hanging low as the slow trudging continued. Soon, I promised with each pat, soon.

They needed rest and even though nightfall wasn't near, I felt like I needed a rest too, the sun's unforgiving ray hitting my uncovered head, heating up my back and shoulders. I was too hot. "Altair," I called out to the assassin, but the man in white said nothing, not even acknowledging that I was speaking to him. "Altair!" Still nothing. "Fucking prick." Stopping my horse, I crossed my arms on the saddle horn, watching as he continued on without looking back. Something was wrong, it pulled at the back of my mind, something wasn't right. Clicking my tongue, I moved my horse to be beside Altair, grabbing his horse's reins from his hands, worried when he didn't even fight back. "Altair?"

I stopped both of the horses, giving Altair a hard look before having my horse circle his. What was wrong? His head snapped up, almost like he startled himself out of his train of thought. "Why have we stopped?" he questioned, looking around, as if expecting something.

"You didn't notice that the horses need a break, that they're sweating and as in need of water, not to mention, we've been racing through the desert like there was a wild banshee after us," I told him, confused by his statement. "What's wrong?"

Cold golden eyes glared at me. "That is none of your concern."

"Well, obviously it is if you won't even answer me. You've been thinking for who knows how long, withdrawn in that head of yours. Isn't it in your training to notice your surroundings around you?"

The assassin glared even more, pulling the reins out of my hand, giving me a burn from how fast the leather pulled from my palms. As I hissed with pain, balling up my fist to try to alleviate the pain, I felt like screaming. He looked at my hand, something flickering in his eyes, an apology maybe? Ha, that'd be a laugh and a half, I'd never get one out of the man. "There was something that William said, something that didn't make sense."

"And what's that?" I asked, my head tilting to the side ever so slightly.

Altair turned away, concentrating on the desert horizon. "I was sure he was going to claim Acre for his son Conrad but when I questioned him about it, he held no claim to it. When telling the rafik, he gave no answers either."

I bit my lower lip, thinking of how I could say what I knew without giving away anything. "William and his son was never really close. The boy was always disobeying his father and would do anything to prove to his old man that he was better. Conrad did leave his father to Richard's mercy, to at the king's wrath without looking back, without giving reason as to why." The assassin looked over at me, his eyes questioning. "A son who isn't close to his parents will go off on his own to prove that he is better than them," I explained, shrugging my shoulders.

Something in Altair's eyes flashed, some sort of emotion, something that I had a feeling was important but I didn't raise question on it. Nodding, Altair clicked his tongue, his heels nudging his horse's sides as we continued on our journey back to Masyaf, our pace slow to rest the horses. I could tell that this was going to bother Altair, his eyes were so intense as he stared ahead, trying to put reason behind the actions of these men. I had heard him muttering to himself quite a few times but every time that I tried to listen in on what he was saying, I couldn't, his voice was so low and hidden under his breath that the words didn't make any sense to me.

I had to ignore what he was saying for now, I had to stop worrying about him, he would be fine. My inner fangirl was throwing herself in Altair's direction, trying in some way to gain his attention even though she was deep inside me and I made no outward movement to him. I didn't want to bother the assassin as he was so deep in thought about whatever it was he was thinking, all I could tell was that his fists would clench every time a certain thought passed through his head. I licked my lips, keeping an eye on him, trying to figure out some way to help him.

I'm not sure what he was thinking, perhaps he was just staring off into space, I'm not exactly sure, I was just wondering if he was going to snap and go muttering on about hopeless causes or worse yet, start talking to himself. I began to hope not, I didn't want to deal with a crazy, dangerously armed assassin on my hands in the middle of the desert with this horrid heat. The wind in the desert wasn't being kind to me either, they were blowing sand every which way and thanks to my shawl being lost somewhere in the streets of Acre, I was unprotected from the weather.

A grain of sand landed in my eyes, causing it to water to get rid of the un-natural object. I kept my eyes closed, wiping away any tears that would have fallen due to the intrusion of the sand grain, trusting my horse to stay in line with Altair's. I was stupid enough to run from guards and to lose my shawl but I would have rather liked to stay alive or keep any part of my body on my person, where it belongs. A storm wasn't kicking up, at least, not to my hearing, though I'm not a trained assassin so I can't exactly tell anything, especially with my eyes closed.

"You're crying again?" I heard from Altair, he sound as if he was confused by this.

I opened my eyes for a second, one of my eyes blurry from the sand grain. "I had something in my eye so it natural for the human body to tear up to get rid of whatever it was that got itself stuck to the eyeball. Sorry if that's so hard for you to understand."

From my good eye, I saw Altair cringe, well almost cringe. "Your eye is red."

"Oh wow, no shit! I got sand in my eye!" I shouted, feeling angry that he would state such an obvious fact. I mean, seriously? Ugh! "I lost my shawl in Acre when I was running from the guards."

"Last night?"

"No, yesterday. I broke something and someone called the guards on me." I rubbed my eye, not feeling anything scratching the surface but I was thankful for that. "It was my fault in a way, I chose to go around something when I could have jumped had I not thought about my leg possibly breaking."

Altair shook his head before reaching around behind him, pulling something out of a saddle bag. I couldn't really tell, I was too busy rubbing my eye to clear the blurriness away. "Here," I heard him say. Looking over at him, I saw him holding up some sort of fabric in his hand, holding it up for me to take it from him. The material was dark and heavy looking but I accepted it gratefully. Our fingers brushed against each other briefly and as a blush flared up in my cheeks, I turned my head away. Unfolding the material, I wrapped it around myself, being careful to cover the top of my head. Oh, thank goodness, the heat was off my back and my head. I wouldn't be able to properly tuck the fabric into my clothes to hide my skin, to protect myself from the elements of the desert but I was thankful nonetheless, even though the material's length reminded me of a bride's veil.

"Thank you," I said after sometime, keeping myself hidden in the shadows of the fabric. Maybe this was a blanket of some sort? I wasn't exactly sure, I was just grateful of it. The rest of the day passed along slowly, nothing more passed between us. When dusk fell, we stopped before the last rays of the sun dipped into the earth, ready to give way to the stars and the moon. I watched as Altair dismounted from his mare, patting her neck before drawing some of his things from the saddle bags.

I dismounted from my own horse, sitting down off to the side somewhere while I watch Altair toss what looked like paper or some sort of paper like material together, stacking them in some sort of pile before striking one of his blades against some flint, the sparks hitting the material. I held the fabric close to me as the cold of the night began to settle in. Already, Altair was covering up the horses in heavy fabric to protect them from the night. I smiled at his actions, he was very compassionate to the horses, almost as if he had known them his whole life. Perhaps he had.

Drawing one of my knees near my chest, I wrapped my arms around my leg, resting my chin on the knee, my other leg tucked under me. I closed my eyes as heat from the fire rose, warming my legs and arms, somewhat content with how things were even though I knew that this wasn't really a time of peace for anyone. Peace? Did anyone ever know of such a word? Setting my forehead against my knee, my nose pressed against my thigh almost perfectly as my eyes closed. "Tired already?"

"Something like that," I muttered, not even bothering to pick up my head. "I don't really have the strength to move." My stomach decided at that moment to let out a huge roar. Why does it keep on doing that at awkward moments? "Well, my stomach isn't tired it that says anything." Altair didn't say anything as he sat somewhat close to me, somewhat. He was right across from me, past the flames like he usually was, no, he was actually sitting near me, as if he wanted to be close. It was almost a little awkward. Wait, I've shared a horse with this man, I've literately sat in his lap during our ride to Masyaf, he fell asleep on my shoulder, so why should he sitting close to me be an awkward moment?

Logic answered, saying that it was because he never really did draw close unless there was a certain reason. I grunted as that, watching the assassin from the corner of my eye before I draped the fabric over my head fully. Yeah, maybe I might ignore my stomach for now and let sleep take me, I was getting tired. "What binds these men together?" Huh? I looked over at Altair but his eyes were on the flames. "Nine lives in exchange for mine and Al Mualim never told me what binds these men together."

I shrugged. "Maybe they're all on the same side?"

"No, William and Garnier were Richard's men, enemies of Saladin. There is something else, a deeper connection."

I bit my lip, knowing the answer a little too well. "What do they have in common?"

The assassin stared into the flames a bit longer before closing his eyes, a frown setting on his lips. "From what I could gather, these men were all gaining control of their cities, tormenting and hurting the citizens from their corrupt ways." He then looked at me, his eyes locking on to mine. "These men have to be stopped, that much is certain, but why, I have no idea. I save the people of the lands, yes, but why these nine men?"

I was almost afraid to answer but breaking from the gaze, I shrugged my shoulders, my eyes drawing to the sand beneath me. "Perhaps Al Mualim had seen the evils in their hearts through their actions and decided it was time for change. Perhaps he disagrees with the Crusades and wishes to put an end to it little by little."

"No, he would have let me kill Richard and Saladin if that were so. I questioned him on it, he said no. I obey my master," he said quietly.

I looked back at him. "And yet you question his motives." He said nothing but the look in his eye confirmed that it was true. "These men may hold a deeper connection, I'm not sure," I lied, "but check with your master, perhaps he will give some answer to this riddle of yours."

"Perhaps."

My eyes were getting heavy and I knew that I probably would be staying up any later that evening to talk and ponder with the assassin. This was somewhat intriguing though. Back home, I'd stay up well past midnight to talk to friends when I have a day off and yet here I was in the desert, falling asleep not maybe half an hour after the sun sets. Looking over at the assassin, I watched him carefully as he drew his short blade from his sheath on his back, sharpening it with a whet stone. I wonder when he falls asleep… The only time I know of him sleeping was a week or so ago when he took me to Masyaf for the first time.

My horse nickered at me, nudging my shoulder with his nose. I turned my head, petting the beast's lips gently. "Do they have names?"

Altair looked up from his work, looking at both the white mare and black stallion. "She is Anisa, him Kadin," he said after some thought, returning back to his blade. I smirked, rolling my eyes. The names translated in my head, much like any other name would if spoken as a word. Companion, their names meant companion; why did I get the feeling that he just named them at that moment?

Petting the horse once more, I let out a yawn, covering it up only slightly before lying down, turning up towards the flame before closing my eyes to sleep. My horse kept his nose near me, my lullaby for that night was the heavy breathing of Kadin and Altair's blade scrapping against stone.

-.-.-

I awoke in the morning with Altair's hand on my shoulder, like he woke me up almost every morning since we've first began traveling with each other. I didn't mind, not in the least since it gave my inner fangirl something to squeal over at the start of a new day, however, my stomach wasn't please when there wasn't food placed in front of me. "This no eating things isn't making me happy," I commented, holding my stomach. The only thing throw my way wasn't a phrase or a word, it was a skin. Uncorking the skin, I took in a few swigs before corking and tossing it back.

When Altair followed suit, my inner fangirl spazed. She was screaming about an indirect kiss, something that made me blush horribly. I hadn't given thought to sharing a skin with him until now but I did realize that he and I have been sharing indirect kisses this whole time. I tore my eyes away from the assassin, not wanting to see his Adam's apple bob from swallowing the liquid in the skin. But it was already too late, the images were already in my head since I did watch him drink once.

I didn't wait for Altair to get on Anisa for us to continue on, I climbed on my own horse, noting that the blanket that had covered him last night had been taken away probably before I woke up. Clicking my tongue, I let my horse walk in circles before he reared up, his front hooves waving wildly in the air before he landed, pawing at the ground, ready to go on, ready to run, to feel the wind. The assassin grabbed my arm, his head shaking from side to side as he stuffed the blanket I used last night in a saddle bag on my horse.

I merely grinned, ready to get on with the new day. I wanted to know what was this gift Al Mualim was going to give me, I wanted to go ahead and get to Masyaf to take a bath, wash the grease from my hair, get fresh clothes, probably even stuff my face with so much food, I'll be sluggish for days. Once the white donned assassin mounted his horse, he hollered and gave chase to the wind, racing for Masyaf. Today was a new day, a day without the English language around us, where a target wasn't anywhere to be around to be killed, where the only destination was home. I paused at that thought before nodding to myself. Yes, I was racing to go home, my home.

-.-.-

In the Third Crusade, there were German soldiers who were stationed in the Middle East during this time so it was most likely that there was the German language floating around Acre during this time. Not to mention, in the game, there were some Germanic phrases that was heard from time to time when near a Crusader settlement.

The trades between the Middle East were from the orients, India, as well as Europe so it's not uncommon to find different type of produce, weapons, or even culture in places where they didn't originate from.

Meuchelmörder – German for assassin

Stellen sie sicher, dass er nicht die stadt verlässt – Make sure (Guarantee) that it (the assassin) does not leave the city


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed; otherwise, I'd have a semi-nude assassin throughout the whole game.

A/N: I do apologize if my German was somewhat off last chapter, I don't speak German so I am profusely sorry. Hell, English isn't even my mother tongue. Anyways, as I was saying, thank you all for your wonderful reviews, they keep me going. Once again, there will be historical notes at the end of this chapter.

It didn't take long for us to come to another stop nearby, Altair admitted with a chagrin look on his face that he had to relieve himself. I promptly plugged my ears so I wouldn't have to hear it. Seriously, I know he's human but I didn't want to hear him drain his bladder or anything. I shuddered at the unwelcome image, shaking my head. I don't want to hear it or see it; I'm perfectly fine with not knowing. I mean, he did it in such an awkward way that I would have never known had he not simply walked away without his horse, well, that and he said he had to take care of something with a faint blush on his face. I put two and two together and now, I don't want to know. It's not like he went "WAIT! Wait. I have to piss. Wait here." Wait, where did that come from?

My inner fangirl must be restless or something. I merely rolled my eyes, waiting for the assassin to return. Seriously, I don't know why, it's natural for someone to go when they have to go but still, couldn't he have waited for when I was asleep or something? Ha, not like I was any better but come on! I patted my horse's neck, trying not to count the seconds that he was gone; I could live without knowing how long he went. That information did not need to be processed in my head.

When he returned, I wasn't too worried, I didn't even look in his direction but I could hear him climbing back on his horse and clicking his tongue, continuing on with our way to Masyaf. I wanted to say something but I couldn't exactly ask how it went, I didn't want to know! But this horrid silence was killing me. I took a deep breath as our horses continued on to Masyaf, hopefully putting that very weird situation behind us. I didn't want to look back on it, not ever and from the way Altair was, I could tell that he was just as awkward about it all and didn't want anything to be said.

I don't know why but I began to grin. Why was I grinning? Oh, right, this would be the first time I'd ever see Altair in an uncomfortable situation so I suppose it was a little amusing. Best not to tick off an uncomfortable assassin though, I don't need a hidden blade in my neck, not today, thank you. "Water?" I asked, trying to seem as natural as possible without bursting into a fit of giggles. The assassin grunted, reaching behind him to mess inside his saddle bag then threw me a skin.

Alright, I cracked, I giggled. I couldn't help it, it just kind of slipped. I saw the white hood turn in my direction before I began to cough, trying to seem like I was trying to clear something out of my throat, taking a few swallows of water. When holding it out, he shook his head. I'm guessing he didn't want me to laugh at him again, well, I wasn't technically laughing at him; I was laughing about the situation, not him. That's a big difference, right? Right? The rest of the ride through out that day was in complete silence, the awkward too strong to be cracked and by the time night had fallen, I was ready to breaking it, after taking care of my own business.

"Three more days, right?" I asked, returning to the small fire that Altair managed to make. Seriously, where does this man find the material to make fire in the middle of a desert?

The assassin who was busy brushing the dirt and dust from the white mare grunted. "If the weather is fair and the horses strong enough, less."

Sitting by the flames, I ran a hand through the tops of the heat source. "And for the Saracens and Crusaders? What if we should run into them or worse, a Templar knight?"

The hand holding a horse brush stopped as a hood turned my way. "We'll run through them, they aren't my targets but the Templars will die." Brushing a few more strokes of the flanks of the mare, he put away the brush before sitting across the flames, his gold eyes almost seemed to be glowing. "I still don't know how it is you know of the Templars."

I let out a small smile, my fingers now black with smoke and soot only to be rubbed away. "I know about them the same way I know about the hashshashin and that is the one thing you'll never get out of me. What I choose to keep secret, I will, assassin, and what I choose to give information of, I will, not when it shall please you." I saw Altair's eyes narrow slightly but I looked away. "Besides, I have to find a way home, and I think I know how, the only problem is, I have to see you finish your mission to kill your targets."

I saw the white hood move ever so slightly as his eyebrows furrowed, the look of confusion and wonderment on his face. "You're to see that I complete my mission, why?" he asked, the deep voice sounding a little demanding.

I looked at him dead in the eye. "That's for me to know and for you to never find out." He frowned, the scar on his lips twisting with the frown. He didn't say more that evening but I could tell as he ripped and chewed at dried meat in his hands that he wasn't going to give up on finding out. He's persistent, that one.

-.-.-

Something told me to wake up, something wasn't right, something was wrong. Sitting up, I looked around, seeing nothing but the dark shadows of the horses. Altair wasn't anywhere to be seen, this made my heart jump and beat hard. Where was Altair? "Al-"

A hand covered my mouth as my back fell against a heavy chest. "Shh." For a moment, I nearly panicked had I not felt the ring finger of the hand. "Not another sound." My heart was pounding harder in my chest as the worst possible situations came to mind. In the distance, I could hear the whinnies of horses and the grunted of unhappy camels. Altair's hand moved away from my face to the horses, leading them to where I was. I didn't understand what was going on and I had a feeling that I didn't want to find out. Grabbing the blanket that I had been sleeping on, I quickly rolled it in a crude fashion before stuffing it in the saddle bag of my horse, climbing on to follow Altair.

The assassin mounted his own horse and without a second thought, without even handing me the reins, began to ride off. It was a heavy and fast run, fleeing from whatever it was that we were getting away from. Was it Saladin's men, Richard's, or maybe it was something worse? I couldn't tell. My attention was rather preoccupied in trying to find a proper grip to hold onto my horse with since Altair had taken the reins. The saddle horn was great for just placing hands or arms on but not holding onto so I was forced with digging my fingers under the saddle itself, gripping onto the leather as tight as I could. "Altair, what's going on?"

Over the wind, I could faintly hear his voice: "They're William's men, they're searching for his killer." This threw me off. "They couldn't find me," he said before turning his head, that crazed smile on his face again. "They'll never find me."

"You are but a blade in the crowd," I called back to him, seeing his eyes flash with excitement before he turned back to look ahead in the dark night. "A solitary blade," I whispered, keeping my eye on the white donned assassin.

We had traveled hard until dawn, when Altair let the horses slow to a walk, looking behind him to make sure that the men who were in search of the assassin were so far behind and only then would he hand me back the reins. I swear, it was like the man was secretly testing my grip on whether or not I should fall and get trampled on by my own horse. I would certainly hope not, I rather like all my bones in place and I don't want any hoof shaped bruises on my skin, no thank you. The hard run wasn't doing my horse any good though, the big beast seemed down. Reaching down, I patted his neck, beginning to worry about my steed.

Kadin rolled an eye, almost as if he was thankful I was reassuring him. I scratched that special spot beneath his saddle, watching for that large eye to close in pleasure. When the eye rolled once again and closed, I knew that he'd be alright, he was just tired. I itched the spot a little harder, keeping a promise for him to get a good night's sleep so he'd be fully rested and restored to continue on the rest of this journey. "Why is it that William's men should follow you so far out and away from Acre a day after the assassination? It doesn't seem like them to me."

The assassin turned back to look at me. "What would you know?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "The Crusaders were persistent when it came to one of their own being killed , especially a leader, but I've never heard of them searching outside of their territory to hunt down the murderer; it's not in their nature."

"Suppose you are right, why would they leave Acre at all?"

"Maybe they're following someone else's orders?" I knew the truth but I couldn't spill it, time would be altered if I did and that would not be a good thing, not in the least. "I don't know, maybe they're just acting on their own, maybe this is nothing but a giant coincidence." What else was I supposed to say, that his targets were all Templars? Not likely, it's not my place to say, it was Al Mualim's job as his master.

The assassin shook his head. "This is too much to be a coincidence, too close together. William had taken control of Acre, he said to teach the people how to ration when lean times came, as if he was their savior; Garnier believed himself to free people from their supposed illnesses, prisons of their own minds, he said; Talal took in many to save them, perhaps to give to Garnier for his experiments. These men, all of them, they're all connected somehow in some way."

I closed my eyes, turning my head away. "Then what would you do after you killed them all, all nine of your targets and then some, what would you have accomplished?" Altair didn't answer me; instead, there was nothing but silence, as if he himself was thinking of what he was doing. "Al Mualim will give you the answers, I'm sure of it, Altair." I chewed on my lower lip for a second. I knew what connected these men, how their web worked and yet, I couldn't say anything to help out the assassin, I'd mess up time, history, everything.

Something hit me hard. Wait, no, this wasn't real, this is a game, I'm inside a video game; I have to keep remembering that. Everything may seem real, feel real, taste real, but it's not, it's just an illusion. "What binds these men?" he asked again, I think just to ask the question out loud, see if the answer wouldn't just fall out of the sky. I didn't know what else to say, what more I could give before I spoil everything. Spoil, ha! As if this was sort of sick and twisted game someone was playing.

The hooves against the earth, the occasional wind and the snuffling of the great beasts were the only noise that filled the rest of the ride. We had two days before we reach Masyaf and these short conversations weren't really much of a source of entertainment, not with this stoic assassin as my companion. Give me Abbas, the bastard and I would fight the entire time, throwing insults to each other but it'd be something, anyone would make a better conversationalist rather than Altair on long journeys.

Something rattled off in the distance, tugging at my mind, something familiar. What was that? I looked to my right, seeing only smooth sand as far as the eye can see of the desert horizon. Behind me was as bare and empty with our long shadows and footprints trailing behind, all around was bare and empty and yet, something familiar was coming close. Something's coming, something's wrong, something's not right, what's this feeling? What's coming? What's wrong? What is this? "Altair?" The assassin turned his head to me, his horse moving close. "Altair, something's wrong."

I saw his eyes flicker all around, the color of the iris growing lighter as he slowly panned from side to side with his eyes. My horse cried out as I felt the sudden drop my horse went, his hooves sliding down the side of a dune. Gasping, I tried to pulling back with the reins, trying to control the situation as much as I could but it was like my car accident: I had no control over anything that was going on, I could only watch in horror before the horse came to a sudden stop, the impact hard enough cause Kadin to fall to his side, his weight on my leg. Groaning, I tried to push the beast off of me.

Altair seemed to have fallen the same way but his horse seemed more in control with everything going on and as the white mare landed nearby, I felt strong hands grip my shoulders, trying to pull me out from under my horse. I cried out as I felt weird masses pressing against my leg, threatening to break my leg or ankle. "Get him to stand, get him to stand!" I shouted over my horse's screaming, I didn't know what at the time. I felt Altair's hands move away but I was too busy trying to push Kadin from me. He was too heavy, he was hurting me. Adrenaline pumped in my veins as I struggled against the beast's weight, trying to get him off of me. "Get off! Get off!"

Almost as if something had lifted the horse's weight, I scrambled away, panting as I saw Altair petting the horse's neck, searching him all over. Why didn't he get the horse up? The assassin looked at me and for a moment, I could see hurt in his eyes. Something was terribly wrong, that I wouldn't ride him again. I couldn't listen to that, Kadin would be alright, he just stumbled and got scared, that's all; he'd be alright. My eyes and brain registered it before I properly could comprehend anything: my horse's ankle was twisted, the joint already swollen. "Will be he alright?"

The assassin shook his head. "The ankle is twisted but the injury seems to be more severe than that," he said, a deep sadness in his tone. "He's in too much pain." Already I could see him reach behind, his arm tightening as the hilt of his short blade was pulled out.

Oh God, no. "Wait, Altair don't!" I cried out, rushing over, putting my hands to his arms, pleading with him in anyways I can. "Don't do it, please, don't do it." Logic was screaming at, telling me that this horse would be in so much pain that it would be cruel. Still, I couldn't help but throw my heart out to the horse. I didn't want him to be in pain but at the same time, I didn't want him to die. "Please," I whispered, feeling tears fall from my eyes. "Don't kill him." The assassin's eyes were cold and hard, the hand on the hilt tightening.

"You'd let this animal suffer in pain, to possibly never walk again. He wouldn't bear any weight not even his own and yet you would see him in pain simply because you don't want me to kill him," he said, his tone cold and harsh, venom with every word. "Then you do it." The blade was suddenly shoved my hands and poised over Kadin's heart. "End his suffering, take his life so that the pain goes away." I couldn't, I froze, tears blurring my vision. "Do it!" I shook my head, my fingers lax over the handle of the blade though his hand over mine held it firmly in place. "Do it, take his life! Take away the pain!" I broke down inside and out, my sobs coming out before I was shoved away.

I watched helplessly as Altair pet the horse once more, whispering something to it before the blade buried itself deep in Kadin's chest. I heard Kadin scream out, his body jerking, head raised in hope to stop the sharp object from entering his flesh. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. When the horse's head dropped again, I could see the chest rise and fall with every breath as the blade was pulled out. "The least you could do is see him away," I heard over my sniffling.

Kadin's head was so large, his eyes looking at me as if pleading to help him. He was too far gone for me to help, I was useless. Stroking the fur, I rubbed his neck as best as I could, my tears falling onto his fur, disappearing in the darkness. I tried to talk, whisper, mutter, to do something to help comfort the dying creature but nothing came out of my throat. Already, the deep breaths were ebbing as I tried to smile to seem like he was just going to sleep, though my heart was breaking into a million pieces. You'll be fine, Kadin, you'll be alright, happy and free: I wanted to say that, but nothing helped. When his chest shook for the last time as it fell, I knew that he was gone.

Closing my eyes tightly, I let out a loud sob, bending my waist as my forehead touched the now dead horse's neck. He's gone, he's gone, he's gone, my horse was gone. I don't know how long I was there, time mattered little to me. When I finally straightened up, I saw Altair near his own horse, petting her muzzle, the saddle bags looking bigger than before. The white mare wouldn't pick up her head, the sadness crept over to her as well. "Heart break is never easy to go through," I heard the assassin say. "She'll be fine. When she's with the others in Masyaf, her spirit will return. For now, we walk."

"Won't that take even longer?" I asked, my voice cracking from how hard I cried, the voice not sounding anything like my usual voice.

He looked over to me, nodded once, letting the reins of his horse go as he walked to me, offering his hand. "It'll take longer if we continue to linger," he answered, his hand pulling me up. He didn't keep his grip on me for long, simply letting me go. "Come, the sooner we leave, the better we'll be." Nodding, I followed as the white donned assassin pulled on his horse's reins, continuing on our way to Masyaf, only looking back once to see the wind blow over Kadin's tail and mane, the long hairs picking up and dancing in the wind before settling back down. With a heavy heart, I turned away.

-.-.-

A twisted ankle for a horse doesn't seem like much these days thanks to modern medicine but back in the time of the Third Crusade, it was common to put down a horse if they have any sort of injury at all. I do apologize for ending this on a sad note but I felt like if I continued it, it would seem almost heartless and cruel.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.

A/N: I'M SORRY! I did apologize in my ending notes but still, I'm so sorry. I really am.

Walking in sand hurt my legs so much, I felt my muscles cry out every time I moved them; the sand making all of this unbearable. Walking in water wouldn't have been as painful, hell, through rocks or snow, that wouldn't have sucked either, save for the cold, but instead we're traveling in sand. I'm pretty sure I had grains in my boots, pretty sure that some was in my clothes, gathering in folds of fabric, hiding along creases as it dug further down in my clothes. The heat was making me sweat and with moving, it only doubled to it, my vision blurry from how much I'm exerting my body.

So I'm not in the best of shape, I knew that very well, but this was pushing me well past my limits. I kept a hand on Anisa's saddle, using her to continue on. I have to keep up, I have to do this. My lungs are hurting me, my legs are in so much pain and this went on for hours. Altair never made a noise the whole time, never stopping once to catch his breath, to gain his bearings, no, he just continued on as if nothing was bothering him. Of course he would, he's a tight ass assassin who just killed a horse earlier! This is a man who free-runs all over cities, climbs up walls, towers, jumps from impossible heights, and acts as if it's nothing, which…is nothing to him…

When dusk finally hit on the horizon, the blue sky turning orange as purples, blues, reds and oranges stretch all around. On the other side of the horse, Altair made a noise as Anisa stopped, the horse nudging him on the shoulder. I saw his hand reach up, set itself on his nose as it slid up and down before moving away. I held myself as he stopped, feeling as if I was just a burden now; ha, I've always been a burden, why should this be any different than any other time? I tried to keep my distance from the assassin, moving far out of his way when he drew near, even though it was draw something from the saddle bag from the side I was on. I knew I wasn't on Altair's good side; that was painfully obvious even though the two of us hadn't spoken since Kadin's death.

I was perhaps, never going to forget the dying noises that he made or the look in Altair's eyes when I froze and shook like a scared rabbit under the stare of a dangerous raptor, its claws ready to sink into the flesh before powerful wings take off to the skies again. I was weak, unable to do anything to help out in any situation. "Make my mission short," he once said, actually asking for help in an indirect way, giving me a task to prove my worth and now, we were back to the deep silence that hung heavy again, much like it first did when I didn't speak his tongue. I wish I was back in that awkwardness again, maybe then I wouldn't understand the low oaths under his breath as he lit a fire, small like every other time, or the soft whispers the mare was given. I shivered, not from the cold that was nibbling along my toes, fingertips, and nose, no, I was shivering from something else, something that felt like a deep rejection in my heart.

Perhaps I should give up on finding my way home through Altair; maybe I should just stay in Masyaf or find a way back to Jerusalem to go back to the spot I woke up in this unbearable heat. Anything would be better than the stoic assassin's attitude right now. Staying as far as I could from him, I was further from the flames than I have ever been before, curled up in a little ball as I held my legs close to my chest. I wouldn't sleep this night, not when we're only two days away from Masyaf now; I could rest there, I could sleep away my sorrow, sleep well past the time for Altair to go back to work to kill the nine targets without worrying about a little girl like myself. I don't have to travel with him, no, not in the least. Al Mualim has the Apple, a Piece of Eden, I could go out in the world to find more to send me back home, home to my mother, to my father, even to my little brother.

If I ever see him again, I'll apologize for every wrong I have ever done to him, I'd repent for all the torment I had put through his young life, for the bruises, the scratches, the hateful words. I could spend more time with my mother, I'd learn how to cook so she wouldn't have to some nights, especially when her back will hurt her, I'll be kind and sweet to my father, I won't insult him on his balding head or the fact that he's getting a belly. I'll love them unconditionally like a good daughter and sister, just to see them once again, to tell them that I love them, to hug them in my arms one last time. My heart was torn in so many pieces now and all I wanted was a familiarity to bring me back to be a whole person again. I wouldn't find it here, I have to get home.

My eyelids were getting heavy with every second that passed on this desert night but I couldn't close them, wouldn't close them. I have to stay awake; I couldn't sleep, not when I was so scared of Altair. Crossing my ankles so that my wrists were crossed over them, I watched the flames make the shadows dance around in the sand, toying with the small rocks. The flames would play with the shadows, the two stroking each other as if they were both living beings. The shadows were trying to drown out the flame yet with every flicker, the light would win, a constant struggle between the two: neither wavering, never yielding, never giving up, like a game of cat and mouse. I tried to keep score in my head, basing it off a rock: every time the shadows would consume it, they got a point but when the light fought it off, the light would gain a point. This would go on for however long the fire eats away at the wood deep in its belly, the fuel source limited whereas the shadows encircle, ensnare, and devour all, its patience knowing no bounds.

My neck was beginning to hurt as my tired muscles began to relax on their own, my eyes closing longer than I wanted. No, I couldn't sleep, not yet, not here at least. But I was losing a fight I wouldn't have won anyways, not with this environment. Why is it that in a town, one could stay up for however long they wanted and yet in a wide space with hardly any wildlife around, a person gets so tired so easily? I tried to let my mind ponder on it but I couldn't even keep a proper thought. I have to stay awake, I must…I have to… The last thought that ran through my head was that Altair was looking my ways, his eyes watching me carefully.

-.-.-

The sun was barely coming up, the light a pretty pink and purple as a horse nuzzled at my hair. I have to say, I have never been woken up to something messing with my hair; dogs jumping on me, my mother tickling me when I was a child, maybe even being scared awake but never anything messing with my hair. That was a first for me. Yawning, I sat up, pushing away Anisa's heavy head as my muscles cried out. Odd, I remember falling asleep sitting up…I guess I fell over in my sleep. Snorting lightly, I thought of how it could have possibly been a scare for anyone who wasn't a trained assassin, to suddenly hear a heavy thumping noise and not know where it came from. Maybe I uncurled myself and stretched out so I wouldn't hurt myself? Rubbing the back of my neck, I shrugged. It was possible. "You're awake." I turned to see Altair behind me, messing with the sash around his waist, his hands busy behind him as his armor was put on, the brown holding the fabric in place. "You're never up this early."

I nodded and stretched again, letting out a delightfully satisfied mewl as I felt muscles stretch. "You always wake me," I commented. Looking away, I suddenly felt ashamed by my actions the previous day, wanting to curl up in a little back and hide. "About yesterday…"

"There is no need to make up excuses or apologize," he said in a very monotone voice. Peering over my shoulder, I watched him from the corner of my eye. "Death is different for everyone. From your reaction to it, you've never had anyone close to you pass."

I shook my head. Sure, there was my great grandmother, but I was so young, I didn't really know her to be affected and the only pet deaths have all been in different households. Death had visited me once, perhaps twice, but I still live, I think. "You?"

He didn't meet my eyes, keeping his face hidden in the shadows of his hood. "I'm an assassin, death is my companion; where I go, it follows." I nodded, not really sure how to answer but then again, that was probably just me being quiet. He had seen death outside of his occupation, I remember that from my stupid fangirly research, that both of his parents had died, leaving him completely in Al Mualim's care. It wasn't odd that a master would adopt a pupil like his own but the fact this is Altair, the son of none, it was almost like it was meant to happen. "Sooner or later, death will visit you and take someone close. It always does," he said gravely. A dark foreshadow, everyone's fate, causing me to shudder.

I already came close to death and there I was, talking to a very recognizable assassin. I stood, dusting off my butt before looking over at him. "Some say death is only the beginning." His hood turns my way but I drop the conversation, not really wanting to talk about the afterlife, religion, any of it. "How long are we from Mayaf?"

He looked to the horizon, to the rising sun. "If we start now, we can make it there by morning tomorrow, but only if we ride hard." Altair then looked my way, his eyes watching me carefully, questioning me. I tilted my head, taking a few steps and regretting it so much. My legs were on fire, my feet tight in the boots, and my hips felt pulled but I continued to walk to Anisa. I saw something flash in his eyes then, I don't know what it was, but the way he nodded, it was almost like approval. "We ride then. It wouldn't be wise to pass through villages on foot, not with the Crusaders and Saracens around."

Grabbing onto the saddle horn, I pulled myself up, feeling added help push me from below as Altair's hands push against my foot, lifting me higher. Once I sung my leg over the back of the Arabian, I smiled down at the assassin, though he wasn't on the ground for long, he quickly joined me on top of the white horse. My heart fluttered when I felt his knees touch the backs of mine, his hands were in front of me, holding me in a protective barrier. This was a lot easier than riding side saddle, that was for sure, but at the same time, it wasn't for so many reasons. The assassin's chest was against my back, the beating of his heart echoed into my own chest, almost as if asking my heart to sync up with it; his lungs filled and deflated with every breath he took, the ebb and flow almost perfectly matched with mine: he'd inhale, I'd exhale and vice versa.

I felt…safe, safe and warm. Not as in heat from the desert, that was becoming more and more tolerable, but I felt almost fuzzy. I shouldn't be blushing, I shouldn't be acting this way around Altair, he isn't mine to be all giggly around. I shook my head, putting a hand to my forehead, trying to clear myself of all these thoughts. No, I can't get all fangirly over Altair. We're only sharing this horse until Masyaf where I don't have to see him again until it's time to go to wherever the next target will be. My heart jumped at the thought of Malik. Would he recognize me, expecting me to not know Arabic, or would he treat me like he does anyone else, a person passing by? I felt heat creep into my cheeks as thoughts of the Dai flooded in my head. He was so very attractive with his dark eyes that one could get lost in forever. My fuzzy feelings were now all over, spread to even my fingertips and toes, engulfing me to not even realize that we were riding to Masyaf.

Masyaf, where Al Mualim holds the Apple. When I thought of that though, something flashed in my mind, something, I didn't think I would think about: that old woman. What made me think of her? "Altair?" The assassin's chest moved rumbled with a grunt. "You know almost everyone in Mayaf, right?" Another rumble echoed from his chest and into mine. "Then answer me this, who is the old woman who is always seen near the library?" I couldn't tell what Altair's reaction was, it wasn't possible for me to see his face but as I turned my head to look back at him from the corner of my eye, I saw that he was looking at my, bewilderment in his golden eyes. "She was the one who gave me this," I said, touching the sash around my waist. "She couldn't have been too far from us when I asked for one."

He kept his stare on me, as if trying to remember himself, but closed his eyes before opening them back to our destination. "There was no woman there," he replied. What? No, she was there, I remember her as clearly as I could my own family! She touched me, she was real. I looked down to the saddle horn, my fingers digging into the leather in thought. Ra'uf had said something similar when I asked him about the woman as well but he had given the same answer. A woman who was but wasn't there. "The sun is getting to you," I heard over my thoughts as a skin was pressed into my hands. "Drink or you'll see these specters again," he commanded. I wasn't hallucinating; she led me from place to place in Masyaf, even to the river where Altair was bathing, a place I would have never found on my own. "When did you first see this woman?" he asked with something in his voice. Concern? Curiosity? I don't know anymore.

"Um." I closed my eyes, trying to think back. When had I first seen her? It wasn't back in Jerusalem, I would have remembered that, oh! "After leaving the gardens and library, I wanted to search around Masyaf. She was standing right outside as if waiting for me. She was with me while you were in the training ring."

I heard his clothes move with a soft hush, almost like he nodded. "Yes, I remember that moment but I don't remember this woman." That didn't make any sense. "How often have you seen her?" I shook my head, unable to think of a proper number. "Ask Al Mualim then, perhaps he will give you answers." I snorted but drank what little water I could, trying to hand it back over but when Altair didn't move to accept it, I knew he would have me drink it all; drink to chase away the specters and yet, the only thing I could think of was alcoholics drinking to see some. Ironic in a way, I suppose.

It's weird, why could I see her but not everyone else? "Life's full of mysteries," I muttered. Something told me that Al Mualim wouldn't be able to answer my questions, she could though. Draining the skin of its contents, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, the liquid glistening on my skin as I held it in the sunlight. Anisa traveled hard, the mare pushed herself to follow her master's orders to take us back to Masyaf and yet, I couldn't see the white of her mane, her strong neck, and large head, instead, the color was the exact opposite. My thoughts went to the black stallion that bore me to Acre, the gentle beast putting up with my weight throughout the trip.

Perhaps I was tired or I really was getting sick but maybe it's because I was in the sun for so long, I'm not sure but I did drift off from time to time, only waking up when my head snapped up, taking a deep breath as I'm suddenly alert. I think the only reason why I keep falling asleep is because I don't have to take control of a horse, that I could simply let Altair have full reign over Anisa, he didn't really need my input on anything so it was somewhat relaxing but mostly boring. I don't remember much on our way there, just passing through a few villages. Though, once, I do remember when I woke up in a less aggressive time, Altair had an arm around my waist, holding me close but when I moved, showing I was awake, he went back to holding onto the reins. My guess, he didn't want me to fall.

I grinned once before stretching, my arms stretching in front of me as my back curled against Altair's chest before I suddenly raised them up in the air, above my head as my back arched, a satisfied mewl passing from my lips before I let out relaxed sigh, letting my arms fall back onto the saddle horn. "Must you squirm?" I heard in my ear.

Giggling, I shrugged. "Says he who twitches in his sleep."

"I don't twitch," he snapped, sounding very defensive. This caused me to laugh more. "Why would you say I twitch in my sleep?"

I turned my head, not really looking at him but from my peripheral vision, I could see him. "Well, on the way from Jerusalem to Masyaf, you slept some. Your fingers kept twitching."

I saw him shake his head. "You were the one rubbing my neck. I wasn't asleep." I blinked, a little shocked that he would remember something like that but then again, I suppose all assassins are light sleepers so maybe he was awake during that whole time. Then again, he did snap his head up pretty quickly when I said his name. I saw his eyebrows come together, the curiosity back in his eyes. "Why were you doing that?" I looked away, biting my lower lip. Why did I do that again? Maybe it was to relax him, to get him to fall asleep without worrying about anything, I don't know, maybe it was to ease sore muscles? I don't know, I can't remember. I shook my head and shrugged, unable to answer him.

The long road was silent as we passed through a village, the horse having to walk so not to gain attention to ourselves; a group of guards chasing a horse weighed down by two and double equipment wasn't exactly the best thing to travel with. Soon, day turned to night and I was drowsy as soon as the sun dipped into the earth, the stars littering the sky once again. I remembering sleeping against Altair, his arm going around my waist once again as his breathing and heartbeat lulled me to sleep. I could only hope and pray that I wasn't humming or singing in my sleep again, I didn't need to draw attention to ourselves with that loud noise.

-.-.-

"Wake, we're nearly there," I heard seconds before I opened my eyes. Stretching, I arched my back, feeling his chest press further but after relaxing, feeling the joy of pulled muscles, I rolled my shoulders. "You squirm."

Snorting, I lowered my head and shook it before turning back to look at him. "Yeah, well you twitch," I said with a grin. It was childish, yes I know, but this was perhaps one of the few rare occasions that he isn't such a tight-assed prick, that he actually has a sense of humor, as sick and twisted as it was. However, seeing him narrow his eyes, I could tell that I shouldn't have said anything but I couldn't help it, it just slipped. I giggled again, turning back to face the horse. "Besides, I'd rather squirm and know that I can get out of a situation as such rather than twitch and get killed by accident."

I felt him exhale before a hand was placed on my throat, the thumb lifting my chin. "A person who squirms is more likely to die than one who twitches," he whispered darkly in my ear, his breath sending chills up and down my spine, a mad blush covering my face. "One who squirms is most likely a snake and snakes should always be beheaded before it strikes."

When the hand moved, freeing my head, I turned to look at him, an anger digging itself in my chest. "A snake will still produce venom, even in death," I ground out before putting a hand to where his was only moments ago.

I saw Altair's eyebrows furrow. "The rafik said something similar to that after I killed William." I blinked before I looked away, unsure as to what to say to that. I didn't like the rafik and the rafik didn't like me so for he and I to say something similar, it was almost insulting. I scowled from that but as I looked ahead for perhaps the first time that day, I noticed just how close the fortress of Masyaf really was and it hit me like a brick. These past few days had gone by quickly, almost too quickly. I am suddenly famished, wanting to eat something other than a piece of fruit that was thrown my way, dried piece of meat, or even hard bread; something other than those. Warm food, even if it was runny and disgusting, as long as it was hot and filling, I wouldn't mind. My stomach rumbled, wanting to be filled quickly.

Once we were much closer to the great fortress, I felt Altair shift behind me before he dismounted from Anisa, patting her flank as he grabbed her reins, pulling her along. I felt nervous being on the horse without him so I dismounted as well, staying on the other side of the white mare. The horse nickered, her head turned to look at me but obeyed her master and continued to walk. I smiled at the horse, petting her large head, the back of my hand resting in the hollow of her cheek as I brushed her coarse fur with my knuckles. Already, I could hear the neighs of other horses as we drew close to the stables just outside, many of the assassins nodding to their returning brother, though most merely glanced his way. They never spoke, I realized, not once. I would guess not since they were on look out for those who might be coming too close to the fortress; silence is their weapon, their key when staying sharp.

When Anisa was pulled away, I looked over to Altair giving the bridle to another hooded man, his robes different from Altair's but still, he was an assassin nonetheless; just looking at him sent a dangerous warning down my back, to watch out and be careful. I took this caution even though he nodded once to me as well, a gentle look in his eyes. Instinct told me two things: to trust him and to fear him; I chose to do both as I nodded as well, keeping an eye on him. He turned to look at Altair again, the reins in his hand held in a tight grip. "The master is in the library, he wishes to speak with you right away."

Altair nodded, his hood moving only slightly. "I thank you, brother." The two assassins kept a mutual eye on each other before both turned away at the same time. It was a little unnerving to watch trained men move as if they were all connected to each other; it felt weird to me, wrong almost. I think this is because I'm an outsider, one not of this time or world, hell, even with the ARMY back home, I always thought it was weird that they would move in such a way that it made clockwork look sloppy. I shook my head at this thought, catching Altair's eye. We didn't say anything but with how we've been these past few days, little was needed to be said. I had to show up with him, that was a given, to receive this gift that the master of the assassins had written about. We entered the village of Masyaf and I felt safe once again. It was strange, I felt safe in Malik's bureau, while on horseback with Altair and in Masyaf but in Acre and in the desert, I would get a feeling like something was to attack my back. How odd.

Home never gave me a homey feel, it never did, not after learning that it was haunted. I could have handled being alone in a house, by myself, no dogs, no brother, no parents, no nothing, and still be alright unless it came to sleeping. But after the lights turning on and off by themselves, seeing a small knick-knack, I don't know what it was, maybe it was the small box my mother painted when I was six or some sort of small thing we had around the house, I don't know, but I saw it fly across the room. After seeing that, I was paranoid, scared to even shower by myself if a dog wasn't in the bathroom with me and sleeping, no thanks. One growl from the dog and I would press my back against the headboard of my bed, holding a pillow to my chest, ready for whatever it was to go away. So, home never felt like home, it wasn't safe, but being around a bunch of strange assassins, I felt so safe. Why was that?

I gave no other thought to it though as we walked through the village, climbing our way up the paths to the library high above. I noticed however that every person we passed, everyone, assassin or civilian, adult or child, all wore a red sash around their waist. I felt so out of place, well, more than usual. Thinking back on to when Altair was undoing his waist guard to give me his sash, I should have taken up his offer. Sighing, I made a mental note to find my own. There has to be several just lying around, right? Maybe in that room? Mentally shrugging, I kept up with the assassin, noticing that he was walking at a faster pace and with the burn now strong in my calves, I began to fall behind. I tried to keep up, once or twice I'd have to go into a jog just to stay in step but with the elevation and jogging, I was falling short of breath. Altair had turned his head once to see me stop, holding my side as a stitch cramped my stomach but after waving a hand his way, he simply nodding on continued on. What? That prick! Not even bothering to stop if I was alright or if I needed help or anything! Worst of all, his pace didn't slow! I'll have to quit waving at him so he would get it through his head that maybe I would have liked to have stopped every so often to catch my breath!

Granted, I had traveled this way before but only once up to the library with Altair and that one time, he wasn't using those long strides of his. I'd catch up, sooner or later, maybe later, probably after Altair ran into Al Mualim. Maybe the older man might blow a gasket and punish Altair for not keeping me by his side the whole time. I cracked a grin at the thought of Altair being bitch slapped by his master again. Okay, I didn't grin, I cracked up. OH! Laughing with a stitch in the side wasn't a good thing but it brought my spirits up. Oh, comedy, you make the world go round. Still, it made me happier than I had been in a long time, since before I appeared in Jerusalem. When was the last time I had been happy? Was it when the brother and my father were having a pissing contest over who could give the best insults or was it when my friend called to tell me about her baby and the promise of seeing my godson? I couldn't remember, it felt like ages ago.

Off in my own little world, I wasn't paying attention that my body had started walking again, following behind the assassin but hey, I was busy in thought so I could give myself some slack and when I finally did pay attention, I realized that I was just a step behind Altair, no longer dragging behind but then again, with the length of his strides, I think he slowed down for me. Not wanting another bitch slap, huh, Altair? I mentally shook my head as I gave a soft snort, my head ducking low from the snort and I think, to hide the fact that I was laughing at him and didn't want to be caught. I bit at my lower lip to stop from smiling but it didn't work, I think I had those weird smiley faces that floated around on the internet on my face. Ah well. Lifting my head up, I had to swivel my shoulders every which way so not to run into people, dodging them with ease as we finally crossed under the stone arch that signified the entrance of the assassin area. Dorms to my right, some small huts to my left and continuing on up would be the training ring, the library, and the gardens.

I swear, I heard something rattle off next to me, something that sounded oh so familiar. "That's him, Master Altair! He's filled with skill and strength," I heard someone flutter. Turning my head, I could see a group of guys watching the once proud Master Assassin. Oh. My. God. Fanboys. Still, I could feel the heavy masculinity flow from Altair as I could have sworn I heard his ego inflate like a balloon. Male pride, tch. It was so easy to pop it too, all one would have to do is point out flaws, imperfections, or even something as trivial as Altair's low rank and that once huge ego would be bruised and battered and back down to the size of a leech. Still, I said nothing, my inner fangirl was having a field day though, either ranting about the fanboys or laughing her head off with her arms bent at the elbows, palms up and in a groping motion as lighting lit all around her with the thought of popping Altair's ego. I sighed, rubbing my forehead. I'll have to sate her again somehow.

Hopefully I can do that soon and not have to wait until who knows when for something to make her happy. Near the training ring, I could hear Ra'uf spouting off with his nuggets of knowledge, criticizing his students while those around the ring were chortling at some of the mistakes that many of the students made. Many young women, some younger than myself were near the ring, perhaps admiring the young men in the ring, their swords swinging in precise ways but the movements seemed to be, forced I guess, I don't know, like they were trying to please their teacher, that is, until one student didn't block a move, the blade slicing across his forearm as the crimson life force began to stain his sleeve. Ra'uf shook his head, ready to bark an order but after seeing the novice swing his blade as retaliation, it was clear that he was teaching his students some sort of method to ignore pain. Looking over at Altair, I began to wonder if he was given this same lesson. Probably, though I'm pretty sure that the cry out in Acre from the rock the beggar threw was an outcry of shock and surprise.

Still, passing by the ring, I turned my attention away, keeping my eyes on Altair's back as he lead us inside the library, passing by the assassins that stood guard, hands on swords, watching everyone carefully, almost as if anticipating an attack. Many of the informers inside of the library kept crossing back and forth between bookshelves, some carrying many books or scrolls but all busy keeping up with the ancient papers. As we climbed the stairs, I noticed that Altair's master was not behind his desk. That's not right, though, the assassin outside had said that Al Mualim was waiting. Giving much thought about this, a voice echoed out. "Come, Altair, speak with me a moment." I looked around, searching for the familiar voice. Where was he?

Altair merely turned his head, seeing his master and walked to where the older man was, his head bowed in respect. "As you wish," he spoke softly. I smiled at the tone, my inner fangirl somewhat pleased with the way he spoke.

I watched as the assassin dipped behind a bookshelf, but peering around a few shelves, I could see that Al Mualim was holding a book in his hand, looking down at the words that lay on the tanned paper. However, this book was closed carefully as the master of the assassins looked up, a gentle smile on his face. "Word has reached me of your success. You have my gratitude and that of the realm. Freeing these cities from their corrupt leaders will no doubt promote the course of peace," he said, a proud tone echoing in his words.

"Can you really be so sure?" Altair asked, apprehensively. I could hear doubt in his voice, it reverberated in every corner of the library.

The older man nodded and held up a finger. "The means by which men rule are reflected in their people," he said. Wise words coming from a wise man. "As you cleanse the cities of corruption, you heal the hearts and minds of those who live within." A suddenly though of Altair with wings and a halo when through my head, a grin appearing on my face.

Altair's hood turned away. "Our enemies would disagree."

"What do you mean?" Whoa, didn't Al Mualim ask that a little too fast? I bit my lip, remembering my place and that I couldn't say anything about the future, video game or not.

"Each man I've slain has confessed strange words to me." My inner fangirl cracked up and squealed loudly as her arms waves around. "They are without regret. Even in death, they are confident in their success. Though they do not claim it directly, there is a tie that binds them, I'm sure of it," Altair said, getting straight to the point. When he wants answers, he doesn't bullshit, that's for sure.

His master nodded, processing the information before glancing back up to his student. "There is a difference, Altair, between what we are told to be true and what we see to be true," he said, holding his hands out to give an example. "Most men do not bother with the distinction; it is simpler that way. As an assassin, it's in your nature to notice, to question."

"Then what is it that connects these men?" Once again, straight to the point.

Al Mualim gave a mysterious smile and shook his head. "Ah, but as an assassin, it is also your duty to still these thoughts and trust in your master, for there can be no truth without order and order requires authority." My inner fangirl was screaming loudly in anger, hissing and lashing out.

The air got heavy as I felt Altair's anger grow. "You speak in circles, master. You commend me for being aware but ask me not to be. Which is it?" One of his hands curled into a fist, trying to suppress the feeling even more.

"Your question will be answered when you no longer need to ask it," Al Mualim said quietly, sensing his pupil's anger as well.

"I assume you call me in here for more than just a lecture," Altair snapped.

The master of the assassins chuckled softly, as if he had just seen a child throw a temper tantrum. "Very well. A rank and weapon are again restored to you. Two more leaders remain. Go and see to it that their rule is at an end," he said, dismissing the younger assassin. As Altair walked away, almost stomping, his eyes turned to me. "Child, it is good to see you once again," he said, his words warming my heart. "I trust you have been well?"

I smiled, bowing my head in respect as I drew near, keeping my distance still to be respectful but close enough so that he has my full attention. "Yes sir, as well as I can be." Be nice to Al Mualim, he holds the Apple, the Apple might send me back home, I have to remember this. Well, it's not that hard to be nice to Al Mualim, he seems like such a kind person at heart, like a parent.

The master nodded, holding his arm out to lead me away from the dark corner of the library. "Come, I have something for you." I felt his hand on my lower back, sending warnings in my head. A man never touches a woman in the Middle East unless he is family or husband and even though I was getting sparks firing off in my brain, I ignored them. Reaching the desk, he picked up what looked like a silver chain, a charm in the shape of a tear drop dangling delicately. Inside of the charm, I could see colors swirl in a graceful ballet, drawing and holding my attention. "For you, child. Alima was to give this to you but you left with such a hurry that it wasn't properly given."

Guilt ate at me. "I apologize for that, I just don't like being in the gardens. Don't get me wrong, it's absolutely gorgeous and the view of the mountains is awe inspiring, I just felt uneasy being there." A soft smile graced Al Mualim's lips and though he said nothing, he set the charm and chain in my hand. "Thank you."

He nodded and set a hand on the top of my head. "Safety and peace, my child." My heart jumped at his words but as I bowed my head and walked away, I felt like a sense of belonging. It almost felt right being here…


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that UbiSoft has created.

A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews, they made me smile. I'm glad you all like my fic, it keeps my spirits up. This chapter was so hard to work on. I think it's because this week wasn't necessarily rough, it was just more or less tedious. You guys are lucky I love you all so much, I was honestly thinking about going to bed early but I had to remind myself of all of you and therefore, I stayed up just to update on time and everything.

The chain was a simple hook method and once I felt the cold charm hit my skin, I felt like something in my being was tugging to the charm. Maybe it's because it's the first set of jewelry I've worn in a while, I'm not sure, but it feels weird having this charm on. Almost, I don't know, like it's pulling something important. I shook it off as just being a bit on edge. I knew Al Mualim's secret and yet, I couldn't tell anyone, it would ruin history. Playing with the charm, I walked out into the gardens, hearing the women giggle as many of them flittered around, chattering on about something. I didn't want to join in their conversations but I felt like I almost didn't have a choice now that I spoke their language.

I tried to drone them out, I really did, thinking up of any and all loud and annoying songs I could but still, I could hear them. "Oh, you're back!" I was glomped, literately, glomped by the littlest garden girl. "Welcome back." I couldn't help but smile at her, the infectious energy she had was just simply too much for me to ignore. She was such a cute and delicious girl with soft brown hair and large green eyes, the epitome of innocence in my book.

I put a hand to her back, hugging her as well. "It's good to be back," I said quietly. I saw her face wrinkle as she backed away, putting her wrist to her nose. "Yeah, I know I smell. I've been traveling for days without a bath and it's disgusting."

She giggled and shook her head. "You don't smell, you reek." Giggling, I shrugged. I had an excuse but still, to be told I smell, it was an insult that I desperately wanted to get rid of. A bath would be nice right about now. "Oh! You got one too!" I tilted my head but when she pulled at the chain around my neck, I soon realized she meant my charm.

I looked down at the teardrop charm as I lifted it up. "Isn't it pretty? Al Mualim gave it to me."

She nodded and pulled at my hand. "He makes sure Alima gives them to all of us." I looked at her curiously. "Oh, us as in the garden girls. It's a contraceptive charm." Say what! How can she just stand there with a huge smile on her face, looking completely innocent and tell me that what I'm now wearing was birth control? How was it possible? "You didn't know?" I shook my head, too shocked to say anything. Why would Al Mualim give me a contraceptive charm? I'm a virgin! It's not like I'm going to throw myself at Altair. I can't, he's not mine, never will be.

Curiosity got the better of me as my shock began to fade. "Does…does it work?" I asked, fiddling with the charm.

She nodded, a bright smile on her face as she held hers up. She's just a kid… "They work. I received mine after my bleedings began. It's customary for garden girls. We're not like the courtesans who rely on faulty methods." Her innocent smile didn't reach her eyes as something wicked delved in her green orbs. "Plan on trying it out for yourself?"

I blushed brightly. "I don't want to try anything out!" I nearly shouted, embarrassed that someone as young as she would ever say something like that. I turned away, my blush only getting darker. "Besides," I muttered. "I don't plan on losing my virginity anytime soon."

She giggled, her smile hiding behind her hand. "So, they were right after all." I didn't catch the joke but it made me feel somewhat better now that the topic was somewhat gone. "Come, let's get you cleaned." Tugging on my hand, she pulled me further away from the library, towards the familiar ivied gazebo. "By the way, we never formally introduced ourselves. My name is Mysha, daughter of Izyan, one of the assassins of the brotherhood."

I blinked at the information. I thought that assassins were discouraged from having families, or even, for that matter, any sort of relationship. I had it in my head that they must have thought that relationships were just an opening for weakness. "I'm Elisheba." I couldn't exactly say my parents' names considering that they were of European origins. "I bet your father isn't too happy with you being a garden girl. Mine would kill me if I even thought about wearing anything revealing." She didn't turn to look at me, only staying quiet. Oh no, I must have hit a sensitive nerve. Guilt ate at me. "When did you become a garden girl?"

She didn't turn to look at me still. "I was born in the gardens. My mother was a garden girl herself," she said, her voice sounding hollow. "Many of the orphans you see are either of parents who died in plague, war, or were tossed aside by unwanted parents. It's not uncommon to find a child who was born into the brotherhood from the conception of a garden girl and an assassin. Many of us are lucky to be in Al Mualim's care."

My heart broke for her, shattering in so many tiny little pieces but what she was telling me wasn't so hard to grasp, it just hurt to think that someone as young as she was in a place like this because she was born into it under these conditions. "You were born into the brotherhood."

She turned to me and nodded, the smile once again on her face. "I'll have kids in the brotherhood too, one day. I'm not ashamed by my life in the least. It is less that desirable but all in all, I'm rather blessed." Nodding, I tried to see her optimism. "Come, let's get you clean. Perhaps you'll not smell of horse and sweat."

Nodding again, I proceeded to strip, tugging away my sash, I turned to Mysha, holding it out. From what I could tell, her skinny form covered in revealing clothes, the bra like top barely covering her breasts while the skirt hugged her waist, held up by a thin red sash as it flowed out, touching the ground. "Could you get me a red one?" If I'm going to be in Masyaf, why not fit in with the locals and from what I could tell, the red sash meant ally. I smiled to myself, having been loyal to the brotherhood since I first discovered the games. "I think it only proper considering my company."

Mysha smiled, taking away my sash and ran off. Already, I could see buckets of water waiting for me. It's not the bath I want but it's not a shower either, but hey, I'm not really complaining, at least I'm going to get washed…somehow… There weren't any rags near me so I couldn't exactly scrub my skin and as far as I could tell, no soap either so it was a bit of a confusing and awkward. Still, I took off my shirt, getting a good whiff of my own body odor and it stunk to high heaven. She was right, I smell terrible. It was refreshing to get that nasty thing off my back, to feel the gentle breeze on my skin was again but I was disgusted by the color of my skin: almost a gray color from lack of washings, dried sweat, and maybe dirt that I've collected during the trip. Maybe I should forgo traveling with Altair? It's not like I needed to do anything for his missions, I'm not an informer and certainly not an assassin so what good am I?

I'm no good to anyone. I closed my eyes as I thought about that fact, on how I would probably never amount to anything, that I was no good to anyone and that I was just bothersome and in the way. Why am I here in the first place, though? I'm away from all I know and love, all that I hold dear to my heart and thrown into a world, a time, I know little about. I wondered if it was possible for me to simply leave one day, just travel somewhere, away from assassins and Templars, in a something new and different. The idea didn't bode well though, I soon began to think that if I should leave, that I would be hunted down like a dog and put down. I snorted. As if I would tell any of their secrets, I'm a no one. I'm just a girl from a different world, from the twenty-first century, thrust into this game and I'm unable to get out. That woman holds some answers, I just need to find her but at the same time, I need to stay near the Apple. It is a Piece of Eden, it can perhaps take me back to my own world, to my own time, back into the arms of my family, back to cars, electricity, computers, malls, even processed foods, soft drinks and modern medicine. I want to go back, no, I need to go back.

"Oh, you've returned to us, and it seems your worse off than you were the first time," I heard behind me. Turning, I saw a familiar face, the same woman who had groped me openly while another garden girl was washing my hair, Alima. "You left before your meal had arrived, very rude I might add."

I wanted to roll my eyes but in all honesty, that would be useless and would prove that I'm rude. "I wanted to see Masyaf, I never had a proper tour and I wanted to view the village life," I lied, hiding my breasts from her. Not today, lady, no boobies for you.

She clicked her tongue, reprimanding me as she shook her head. "You look like something a horse dragged through the sands, mud, and filth. Your braid has come undone. Really, haven't you once stopped in an inn to bathe?" An inn? "Surely the boy has given some thought to you as a woman with needs." I shook my head, a faint blush dusting my cheeks. "The boy needs a swift beating with a cane," she muttered, sounding so much like a mother. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I noticed that Al Mualim acts like a father and that she was like a mother. How strange, I never once put that together before. "Finish your strip then kneel, we'll do something about that hair of yours."

I felt a little uneasy changing in front of her, though logic clearly stated that she and I were both women and that we have the same bodies so my shame shouldn't even exist at this moment. Crouching, I pulled out the small blade tucked away in my boot, setting it to the side before I pulled off my boots before tugging off my makeshift socks. Oh god, the smell! My feet stink worse than my body odor. "I think a change of clothes entirely for a day will do you good," Alima said, her nose wrinkling from the smell no doubt but I agreed with her. My feet need to air out and my skin would do well with different material on my person. Standing, I pulled my pants and underwear down before kicking them to be with my tunic, completely bare and shivering as goose bumps rose on my skin. "Now, kneel."

Like a dog, I obeyed. Going to my knees, I folded my feet beneath me, waiting for the next thing, only to be surprised by the cold liquid that drenched me. I shrieked from the frigid waters as it began to drip from my way, landing on my skin in irregular beats. But as I wiped the water from my face, I shivered and rubbed my arms to keep warm, I felt her hands and fingers dig in my hair, only to be caught on tangles and knots before more cold water was poured. Seriously, lady, what the hell? "A little warning would be nice."

"The water's cold." Oh, ha ha. I heard the familiar crackle of bubbles as her fingers dug in my hair, a healthy lather gathering on my head. What was she using in my hair? I didn't see any bottles or bowls or anything and yet, there's bubbles now trickling down my back and chest, making my skin slick. I have to admit, this was pretty relaxing and even though my legs and feet were falling asleep and I was freezing, the attention my hair was getting was well worth it. No more itchy scalp, no more greasy hair, I'd finally be free of it, well, until I'm out in the desert again. Closing my eyes, I tilted my head forward as she dug deep in my hair to the back of my head, never missing a spot before her hands pulled away. "Water." The coldness hit me this time and with it, the soap or whatever she was using got into my eyes. I tried to wipe it out but instead, only made the stinging worse. "Move your head up and don't move." I lifted my head to the heavens and water came down on my eyes, not in the harsh way I had just gotten used to, but like a gentle stream. When the water stopped, a soft cloth was rubbed gently over my eyes, the sting all gone now.

This went on for some time before she wrung my hair out, dropping a heavy cloth on my head and rubbed vigorously. "Must you do this? I have arms you know," I tried to reason but Alima wouldn't listen to me, I guess she couldn't, the fabric was thick and now cold from the water it absorbed as it thrashed my hair around.

Satisfied with the work on my hair, the older woman set a wooden bucket of water in front of me and handed me a cloth. "You claim to have arms so put them to use, wash yourself." I grinned, catching her sense of humor and proceeded to wash my arms as she combed my hair. "You will need to wear new clothes, those you've arrived in are filthy."

"I do have a dress," I said, now scrubbing my belly. Oh, soap, I've missed you! "I can wear it while these are washed."

"I suppose that would be most fitting, however, it is not possible," she said, now twisting my hair in some fashion.

I turned my head, ruining her design. "What did you do to my dress?" I'm going to need it for when I get back home.

"The dress is fine, however, it's not suitable for you to wear something that dark in such a light environment. A girl should wear light colors so that she may match the scenery and blend in with the beauty." I guess I should take what she said as a compliment but at the same time, I worried about my dress. It was rather expensive and rightfully mine so why should I have it back, but her words did bring up the subject of being over heated so I suppose I should just let it slide. My…scrubbing, since it's not really a bath, was soon finished and after getting soaked with the cold water again, I was completely clean and, unfortunately, freezing. "Dry yourself with this, I'll retrieve you some clothes and don't you dare leave this time."

Grabbing the fabric she handed me, I quickly wrapped it around myself and watched her leave the gazebo. I wasn't really too comfortable just being by myself with just a cloth covering my body but what could I do but just sit and wait for her to return with hopefully, something useful to wear. She acted like a mother, not like my mother but like one all the same. I miss my mother. My heart was empty without her, she was my friend, my guidance, my protector; I love her dearly. I need to get home, I need to see her again, I had to see her again, even if it was for a moment. What happened in that accident? Did I die? How badly damaged was my car? Was the other driver alright? All of these flooded my head and even though death scared me, I was relatively calm about it. I wasn't hurt from it, having arrived in Jerusalem before the truck could push my car's engine into my legs and crush me.

I smirked, thinking about how many emails I'd get, how many of my online friends and teammates would wonder about my disappearance and would probably inquire as to where I was. Oh, in only they could see where I was, wouldn't they be green with envy. Huh? I turned my head, feeling something very similar close to me. Peering through the ivy, I saw her. That woman! She wasn't looking my way but instead, to the library, her eyes narrowed and mouth taunt but relatively calm look about her. Her head turned my way, making me jump with how it just suddenly snapped. She knew I was looking her way and yet, she said and did nothing. I wanted to call out to her, to tell her to get over her so that she and I could have a heart to heart, to figure out why she was invisible to everyone but me but instead, when I blinked, she was gone. How in the fuck did she just suddenly disappear like that? "Strange woman." I'd have to scour Masyaf for her now.

"Hi hi!" Oh shit! Jumping, I put a hand to my heart, spinning to see Mysha looking at me, a bright smile on her face. "Aww, did I scare you? I'm sorry." Oh, yeah, she was sorry alright, her bright and happy face just had an apologetic look, yep. "Many of our assassins are returning home today," she said, cheer in her voice.

I smiled, her attitude and cheerfulness so infectious. "I suppose you're happy about this."

She nodded, happy as a clam. "The more assassins we have in Masyaf, the better we are and the stronger our forces." Paranoid much? However, the more assassins in the general vicinity, the better the chances of a surprise Templar attack. "Many of them will come here for…recovery. Perhaps it would be best if you weren't here during that time."

I blushed heavily, trying not to think about what I was just told. "Oh, don't worry, I won't be. I have no intention of being anywhere near that time." Charm or no charm, I'm not about to be anywhere near the gardens if they were going to…can't believe I'm using this term, have all sorts of buggery going on. "I think I'd rather be in the village so not to be confused for a garden girl." She nodded and twirled in a little circle. "Why exactly are you ecstatic with the arrival of the assassins?"

Mysha looked at me and I swear, I could see stars in her eyes, it was almost pathetic. "Because they bring back the best stories ever," she said, admiration in her voice. Oh, methinks she wants to be an assassin. "I've never been outside Masyaf so to hear of the outside world, it's like I've been there."

Oh. "Tch, if you ask me, the world can go without a couple deserts of sand, give me jungles any day," I said, sitting on the ground once again. "I'm so sick of sand and yet, here I am, in the Middle East where there's sand everywhere." I miss cement, concrete, plastic, glass, metal cars, hell, I even miss pollution. I'm grateful for the clean air here, yeah, but I miss home. This place wasn't it.

Her smile faltered but didn't drop. "Well, I still love hearing the stories, regardless of all the sand," she said, attitude echoing in her voice. I nodded, not wanting to pull her into a bad mood. "It's not like I'll ever see it anyways, none of the garden girls are allowed outside Masyaf unless they're given extensive training and missions to act as spies."

Shuddering at that though, I was happily greeted by Alima as she carried an armful of clothes. "They're not garden garb but it'll have to do." I smirked, taking the clothes. They were normally drab clothes, no real pizzazz to them and I'm happy about that. I don't want to draw attention to myself, especially in this era. WAIT! This is a VIDEO GAME! It's not real! None of that mattered though, not when I needed to fit in and keep somehow not screw things up. Looking at the clothes I was given, I could see that it was my normal tunic and pants but the shoes, they were just flats, like, slip on shoes. Guess I'll have to have to carry my boots to my room in the dorms and leave them there until it's time to go. I quickly dressed, with the help of Alima and Mysha, Alima pulling on my tunic for me while I was helped into my pants and shoes from Mysha. Let me tell you this, I have never gone commando before and now that I have, I'm probably never going to go back to it. I was so self-conscious but I was thankful for the long tunic.

Mysha had smiled and pulled out a red sash from behind her back before tying it around me. "So you can truly be one of those who hold the secrets of the brotherhood," she said, knotting it so that it came down in tails in the front and back. "Every time you come back, I want to hear all about your adventures, regardless if it's all sand." Alima had raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at the two of us but said nothing. "Promise me, Elisheba."

I nodded. "I promise, and I won't skip out on any gory little detail either." Well, maybe a few but that was beside the point. I felt uncomfortable just even thinking about what I would have to go through these next few days but whatever it'll be, I'm not looking forward to any of it.

"Be careful child." I nodded to Alima, quickly grabbing my panties and tucking them in one of the boots before picking up my boots. "And stop returning in need of a bath. Tell that boy that if he doesn't stop at an inn every so often, I'll whip him like I did when he was a child."

This made me do a double take. "You knew Altair when he was a kid?" She didn't answer me though, only giving me a knowing smirk. Aww, come on! Fine, to hell with you then! Leaving the gardens, I put a hand to my stomach as it growled loudly. "Alright, alright, I'll feed you, just stay quiet," I muttered, passing by several of the guards and shelves inside the library until finally exiting it all together. Already, I heard chuckles from the spectators as they watched the novices clash their swords wildly in the practice ring, Ra'uf giving his nuggets of knowledge to those paying attention. Life was the same here as it has been for several generations. How many of these boys were born into the brotherhood and how many were brought in?

Walking in the direction of the dorms, I felt someone step on my shadow. I know this feeling. Spinning around, I saw her. "You." She said nothing, as usual, just looked at me with her tired, sad eyes then walked away. Oh but no, I'm not going to let her just walk away, I wanted answers, dammit! Walking away from the ring and library, I followed her down the path that leads to the village but after an assassin passed by, distracting me for a second, she disappeared, yet again! I swore a low oath under my breath before turning heel and heading to the dorms. Fuck her and her strange and creepy disappearing ways, I'm just going to go find something to eat after I drop off my boots, I'm starved!

-.-.-

After giving much though, I had decided to include some children of the brotherhood in my fic. I may have some information wrong, I'm not sure but yeah, hopefully everything's turned out alright.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has the words Assassin's and Creed in it. So wish I did though.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Also, I apologize for last week's chapter, I was busy with work and being sick that I didn't have time so this update. I was hoping to have two chapters written for you all but as you can see, I don't. I'm sorry, everyone.

The coolness of being inside the dorms made me feel better, even though a shiver ran down my back from the sudden change of temperature. The stone walls made everything colder but the high ceiling prevented the heat to stay near the floor. Perhaps this was a good thing. I had seen it in many homes before, back in my own time, my own world, but to know that it wasn't just a southern thing, it made me smile to know that it was common sense everywhere. Universal sense, that's more like it. There weren't any echoes coming from deep inside the dorms so I was pretty much alone, for the most part and walking to the room I was occupying, I felt a little uneasy. Sure, I'd feel better if there were others in the dorms as well but alone, no. I came around a corner before ducking back again. Someone was walking in the room I was staying in. Great, just great. Does this mean I have to sleep in the gardens? I sure as hell hope not, that would be the worst. Not that there's anything wrong with the gardens, no, no, nothing like that, it's just, I don't want to be in a place where someone just fucked a few hours before hand.

Looks like I've got to find myself a place to sleep tonight. I was so looking forward to sleeping in a bed too, even if it was made out of hay and infested with who knows what. Sighing, I walked away, leaving the dorms; maybe I might find a room to sleep in for the night, it'd do my back well. After sleeping on sand and dirt or even sitting on a horse, my back is all kinds of messed up. Would I have to return to the gardens and sleep there for the evening? Well, I would have to go back anyways and return the clothes, perhaps even get another bath…er…scrubbing before leaving for either Damascus or Jerusalem. Jerusalem, where I first arrived after my accident, where I ran into Altair, well, he ran into me. Jerusalem was the start of it all, having arrived there, Malik's bureau was there and where it is, he is. Altair is on his fifth target so I'd only see Malik twice more, maybe.

Wait, would I see him again? I put a hand to my heart, feeling it beat inside my ribcage. I have to go home but would that be before or after Robert dies? A part of me wanted to find out, to know exactly but another part of me wanted it to stay a secret, that I didn't have to know, that I could just stay quiet and watch things play out as I have many times before. I tightened my grip on my boots, unsure of the answer and where this journey might lead me. My mother flashed in my head as I remembered the day I got lost in town, how worried and how scared she was. She'd miss me. My father, my brother, my family, my friends, they'd all miss me. I'm not supposed to be here, this isn't home, I have to go back to my own time, my own world. I have to find a way out of this video game. I just have to remember a few things: stay quiet about events, that this is a video game, and to keep my distance from Altair. He isn't mine, he'll never be mine, I can't have him; I have to remember this. I have to keep this in mind, a permanent note to myself, he's not mine!

Lifting my head up, I nodded to myself, the reminders chanting in my head as I walked on, where, I'm not sure, just anywhere. Perhaps something in the village might give some clue as to why it is that I'm here, why it is that I'm trapped in a world that isn't my own, a time so far from mine. I have cars and electricity, they have horses, camels and their basic forms of technology. We have emails, telephones, texting, they have birds couriers, messengers, even a pony express. I bit my lip and worried it in between my teeth before passing by a few assassins as they stood in a group, muttering amongst themselves. I'm an outsider, not one born here, not even from England with the other Anglos, I'm an American so why am I here? A child passed by me, giggling and laughing as his feet carried him away from me, the pattering of more feet coming close and leaving as well, a group of children now after the boy, all laughing. I smiled but my smile faltered. They're not my people.

Passing by a few merchants, many with their wares on blankets, speaking in loud voices while others continued to make their goods, watching the crowds carefully for any buyers, all of them trying to attract people to shop, like moths to a flame. One man whistled as he folded and unfolded some cloth, no two fabrics the same, the hues ranging all around the color scale. A deep blue caught my eye, the color gorgeous as it darkened in the shadows but turned bright in the sunlight, almost shades different than that of the original pigment. "You like, yes?"

I looked up, seeing the man smile at me, his hands carefully smoothing out the wrinkles of a length of fabric, the white so bright, it was almost blinding. "It's very beautiful," I said, wanting to touch the material. Was it wool, cotton? No, it seemed to fine. Silk? "I have no money to buy it though."

Turning my attention to the man, I noticed his smile didn't waver, didn't turn sour, it only grew brighter. "Then perhaps, when you get money, it'll still be here," he said, a kindness in his voice. Of course not, it's a small village, he wouldn't want to turn away so many people that he'd lose business. "When you come back, maybe I'll have more pretty fabrics."

I nodded and smiled. "I'll return, when I have money," I said politely. Well, maybe I will come back and get it, maybe. Turning away, I kept my eyes on the goods the merchants were selling, many of them so interesting, things I have never seen before, many I have. Weapons drew the attention of the assassins: knives, swords, blades of all sorts, many of them plain but a few were so finely detailed in intricate designs, they drew my attention, though I'd never buy one. That reminded me, where was my blade? I couldn't have it on me, and it wasn't in my boot, did I leave it in the gardens? Ugh, another reason why I have to go back, I supposed.

Foods, toys, more fabric, more blades, more food, then pots, baskets, just about everything that was available was needed for their everyday life. Almost like I was a woman from this time, this place, I was drawn to the pots and baskets, thinking of what they could and would hold. "I'd like one please," I heard right next to me. Looking over, I had seen a small girl, not more than five years old, pointing at a relatively large pot for her size. "My mommy says I need to get a new one for water. I'm going to go get some," she said enthusiastically. She was so cute, like a little doll, dark soft curls with a bright smile. When she handed over her copper and silver coins, she held out her hands with a proud smile, perhaps she made her first purchase in life?

When handed the pot, it was obvious that she wouldn't be able to hold it very well, even filled with water, she'd accidentally drop it. Already I can picture this child with big brown eyes shimmering with tears, a pout on her face and huge tears falling down her soft face. Almost as if she knew I was thinking of her, she looks up, that bright smile blinding me for a second, it filled with so much life and happiness, it was very breath-taking. "My mommy says that she trusts me." She's so cute! I want to pick her up and hug her tightly, she's so adorable. Yet, she walked with such pride, her smile never falling as she went off to, maybe the river, I wasn't sure, but I followed her just in case she did stumble.

"Do you need some help?" I asked, though I was pretty sure of what she'd say, if fact, I was positive I knew what she'd say.

"No, thanks, I'm alright," she said, the pot in her hands slipping just a tad. "Well…maybe a little." I laughed, grabbing the pot by the lid. It was heavier than I expected. "I can hold those," she said, pointing to my boots. Handing them over, I quickly checked to maybe sure my undies weren't peaking out. She took them happily, holding them tightly to her chest as she nodded at me. "We need to get water, my mommy says that we need water." With the pot in one hand, balancing on my hip, I held out my hand to her, offering her to take it and of course, like an obedient little child, she took it, swinging our arms together as we walked off to where the water was. We walked for some time, she happy-go-lucky and perky the whole time we walked, many of the citizens parting to let us by, women smiling before we followed a long line of other women, many with baskets and pots filled with all kinds of fabrics, to wash the clothes I bet. Man, that is one thing I'll never take for granted again, I missed my washing machine. I missed my dishwasher, my washing machine, my room, my bed, and oh God, air conditioning. I miss that almost as much as I missed my family.

The women chattered amongst themselves as the sounds of rushing water came closer with every step. Almost like cattle, we were herded with the other women, many going to other rocks to do their laundry, others staying where they were. "Here, here, mommy always gets it from here," she said, pulling me over to where the river carved away at a very mini cliff. "We sometimes see the little fish that swim nearby, sometimes." She's so cute! As she chattered on and off about her mother some more, I quickly leaned down, filling her new pot with water before the standing to follow her home. "And, and, and sometimes, we wash our clothes here though I don't understand why we don't wash all of our clothes but mommy says there is a good reason, don't know why. Do you know why this is?" I wanted to answer her with logic and reason, however, she cut me off again.

"I think this is because my mommy likes to go to the river every other day because it's so wide and blue and pretty and I like it too, don't you?" The pot was getting heavy as we were walking back up the hill to her house to the point of where I had to stop several times just to adjust the pot in my hands and get a good grip on it. "You could just put that on your head." I blinked at the child, her reason somehow making me seem like an idiot. Would I look like a jar carrier then? Did I have good enough balance to carry a pot full of water on my head without letting it tumble and break and effectively ruining a day's work? Let's test this out, shall we? Shifting the pot until I lifted it above my head, I felt the cold clay press itself against my hair and scalp, the weight different but it stayed balanced as long as I have a hand on the side to keep it from taking a tumble.

The child giggled and took my free hand again, pulling me along carefully so I don't trip and stumble. "You look silly," she giggled. Gee, thanks. Our walk there hurt my legs a bit and the pot on my head wobbled quite a few times, but we made it back into the village without fail. As she lead me to her house to drop off the water, her pace quickened, as if anticipating the praise that she'll soon be getting. Arriving at her house, her mother had quickly spoken to her child in private before nodding to me, taking the pot with steady hands and hurried off, her daughter's arm in the other hand. Don't talk to strangers, kids.

"You help out children as well?" I heard, causing my head to turn. Altair stood in front of me, leaning against a rock. "Such a strange girl you are." I frowned before walking away. "Forgetting something?"

"And what, oh smart one, am I forgetting?" I asked in a sarcastic tone, turning back to stare at him.

"Your boots." Oh snap! I quickly ran after the girl and her mother. She still has my undies!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.

A/N: So yeah, I'm sorry about last chapter how it was all lame and whatnot. Sorta rushed and everything. Work's been biting me hard, especially now that I'm on call every day now so that hardly leaves time for me to write. However, I'm back! Also, I hope you all had a Merry Christmas.

Chasing after the child and mother wasn't hard to do, telling them that my boots were still in the girl's possession wasn't hard to do, what was hard, however, was explaining why I needed them back. Very awkward conversation to have with another person, even if it is of the same sex. I was never good at explaining things, especially when it came to things pertaining to the area that denotes the gender of a person. When handed back my boots, I thanked them both before scurrying off to find a place to put on my undies, after a good proper washing, of course. That means I'd have to go back to the river, find a place without people all around, scrub away at the material that was inside my boot in the cold water and them ring out and wait for said material to dry before putting it on which means stripping in the open and that just didn't seem worth it just yet. Sometime today, most definitely. Seeing Altair with his arms crossed, leaning against a rock, one foot pressed underneath him while the other held him up, it was almost natural for him to be in that pose though for me, for any fan actually, it seems almost odd and out of character. "Thank you," I muttered, not wanting to show my gratitude as I held my boots close to my chest.

One of the corners of his lips rose into a smirk as his hood lowered, covering his eyes from me. "They are important to you?"

I flushed with embarrassment. "In a way, yes, yes they are. Besides, they would be secure on my feet when I sleep, knowing they wouldn't get burnt into ashes by a certain assassin." The smirk became more pronounced. "Taking advantage of a girl who couldn't even speak the language, for shame, Altair, for shame."

The hood rose and the smirk fell. "I would never take advantage of a woman," he said, his gold eyes intense as he spoke in a calm but stern manner. I looked away, ashamed of what I had said. I meant it in a teasing way but with how it came out, with how it sounded, it was as if I had accused him of something atrocious. At once, the friendly mood was gone and replaced with the formal air that was normally around us. "We leave tomorrow," he said quickly, pushing himself off with his foot before walking away, his hands curled in fists. I felt horrible for saying such things and now there wasn't a way I could apologize for them, not with him walking away.

I kept my head lowered as a part of me wondered why we were leaving just a day after arriving while another part of me debating on leaving with him. We'd be heading to Damascus, right? Or were we going to Jerusalem? I didn't know and I was certain that I wouldn't know unless travelling with Altair. To Damascus to assassinate Abu'l Nuquod, the portly sickly man known as the Merchant King, or the Jerusalem, to where Malik was, where Altair would kill Majd Addin? My heart fluttered as I put a hand on it. I may not know the answers but somehow, I didn't want to know. Maybe it would be best if I didn't know, maybe then I could act as if I truly have no idea what's going to happen next, or even for that matter, if I could keep time and history as it should be, without my input from the future or even if something should be done. I have to stay out of things, video game or not, I can't mess anything up. I don't suppose I'm screwing with time by traveling with Altair, then again, I could have messed everything up just by the two of us running in together.

Well, technically, he jumped into the roof garden I was in, but that's hardly the point. Point is, I'm not supposed to be here! I sighed as I reminded myself for the umpteenth time that day it seemed. A constant reminder, unfortunately. I showed up in Jerusalem, nearly a month ago, perhaps, having lost count of the days somewhere along my trip with Altair. Nearly a month since my arrival, since the car accident, since my world was suddenly turned upside down completely, through time, culture, everything. Nearly a month since I had seen my parents, my brother; nearly a month and my constant companion has always been Altair; nearly a month and I've gotten darken with every day I'm under the sun. My inner fangirl was thrilled to be here, happy knowing that the handsome, oh yes, he is handsome, Altair was here but another part of me was dreading it the whole time, upset that I was taken from my home. That woman! Where was she? Perhaps she'll give me some answers.

Something told me to find her, to bug her until she breaks, to figure out through her as to why it is that I'm here. I didn't want to go back to the village and at the same time, I didn't want to go back to the gardens, the library, or anywhere where Altair would be. That's laughable, being in a place where Altair could be anywhere. He could possibly even be climbing up the walls of the nearest building just to keep an eye on me, or somewhere around, I don't know, I'd probably never know. Hearing footsteps draw near, I turned my head, expecting to see a rafik, a civilian, anyone who was just passing by to sidestep me, however, when I looked to see who it was, I was greatly surprised. "You."

There she was, that woman! She had just walked up to me and is now just staring at me. Her sad almond shaped eyes looked at me longingly before she raised a hand, hovering above my face, as if feeling the air that mapped out the planes of my skin. The hand steadied itself in front of my eyes, raising so the palm was by my forehead before the hand dropped lower, much lower, to my heart, pausing their as confusion crossed her face, then finally to my abdomen before her eyes caught sight of my charm. Something passed in her eyes, too quick for me to recognize it. She stared in my eyes again, trying to get an unspoken message across. Her eyes, they weren't the many hues of brown I had seen, they were almost gray. Was she going blind? Her eyebrows met in the middle as her hand gripped my chin, telling me something important. Focus. Wait, what? Focus? On what? Where did the thought of focusing come from?

I tugged my hand from her face. "Do you know why I'm here? Can you get me home?" Something flashed in her eyes once again before they turned sad, almost as if she was in mourning, her finger rising to the way of the library. "Do I have to go there to find my answer?" The Apple, did she mean the Apple? "Does it have to do with the Apple of Eden? The one from Jerusalem?" Her eyes brightened before she backed away. It does. "Wait, tell me these answers. Why am I here? How do I get back?" She still said nothing as she continued to walk. "I want to go home, take me home." Still nothing but her steps increased. What was she doing? My eyes followed her path, seeing that she would take the sudden drop that was the lower part of the village, to where a small secluded home was, hidden in the shadows and with what I remember, it's a long fall. "Hey, stop, you'll fall. Watch the ledge!" I shouted, moving to her quickly in hopes of pulling her away but it was too late.

She fell, her arms wide as it seemed she took a perfect swan dive backwards. No! I ran to the edge, leaning over, expecting to see her body somewhat mangled up on the ground below but it was empty, bare as if never untouched. Where did she go? That just proves it, she knows why I'm here, what I'm doing here, how to get me home and her lack of body proves that she's not of this world as well! Wait, wait, wait, that makes no sense! Perhaps I have been out in the sun for far too long, perhaps I am seeing visions like Altair suggested. Still, she pointed to the library, the only place that the Apple resides in for now. Then again, I know that the Apple is there as well, maybe I did make her up, maybe I was homesick to the point of creating illusions, fantasies, visions of elderly ladies in dirty robes with gray eyes. That has to be it.

"You're too close to the edge." I recognized that voice. I turned my head, seeing Ra'uf staring at me as many boys, all wearing similar robes, ran by. "You aren't thinking of jumping, are you?" he asked, full concern in his voice as he held a hand out to me. "Come from the edge." I don't know why there were tears in my eyes but I reached out as well, his hand grabbing mine and was pulled close to him in a strong hug. "Come, let's get you some water and shade, this heat is not doing you well." I wanted to pull away, to say that I was healthy, that I was sane and able to take care of myself but at the same time, a migraine snuck up on me before I closed my eyes, letting Ra'uf guide me.

She jumped, I can't believe it, she jumped! Yet her body wasn't there. She has to be a figment of my imagination, she has to be. The fall would have killed her, it hurts Altair to fall from that distance in the game, enough to get rid of a few health squares but she fell backwards, to land on her back, she certainly would have broken something or died from the impact. I looked up at Ra'uf, wanting to ask him if he saw her, but as Altair said, there wasn't a woman, he even said so on our ride here. I've lost it, I've completely lost it. That's it, I'm not going to travel with Altair tomorrow, no.

I have to go though, I have to see these missions through, I have to. I have to go home and in order to do that, I need to see his missions are finished. I sighed before pulling away from Ra'uf, running off in some random direction. I'm out of my time, I'm just a girl far from her home. That woman, she's still out there, something tells me that though something tells me that I'm just kidding myself, that I should go into madness but I can't listen to that, no! Running, forever running, I could run so far away. No, wait, I can't. I know of their fortress, I know some of their secrets, I know more than I should, I can't leave. Collapsing to my knees after turning to hide behind a building, a home of some sort, I broke down to cry.

I'm trapped.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.

A/N: Sorry if this was slightly late or whatnot, I found out that a family member is dying and so I'm trying to cope with that as well as write. Fun, huh?

The sun was setting and I knew that I should find some shelter from the cold, to find some place to sleep, yet for the life of me, I can't move from this spot. I'm hidden from the assassins, I'm hiding from the civilians, the only one to have seen me, to visit has been a small field mouse, no bigger than my finger and it's currently chewing up my pant leg. I gave up. I don't belong in this world, in this time, I should just go ahead and let myself waste away. I can do that, right? No, my family, I need to see them again, I have to see them again, I belong with them, let me see them! The assassins don't need me here, Altair and Malik would have been fine without me in their lives; I wouldn't have to worry about making a mistake, I wouldn't have to worry about anything.

Perhaps I should just go back to Acre, take a ship back to England then try to find part of my family there, or perhaps go to the ancestral home and find my roots, marry a good strong Irish lad and have a bunch of children. Something in me told me this was wrong, I can't be thinking like this. I'm not depressed, I'm just sad about something. Maybe it's the fact that I'm trapped! Sighing, I cracked my knuckles, trying to find something to make this sadness go away. Think of anything, anyone, not the family. Not my huge and close family, no, not them. Can't think of Altair, he's my constant companion now so I can see him whenever, I can't think of Al Mualim because my inner fangirl goes into a rant. Not my faithful horse, he was such a sweetie and it's my fault he died. I should have paid more attention.

Pulling my legs close, I hugged my knees. I can't believe I'm sad. Wait, what was that? Something felt off, something wasn't right at all. I'm sad, depressed, and on a raging hormonal rollercoaster! What is wrong with me? That's when I felt it. It wasn't noticeable when I wasn't moving but now, I could feel it and it was a problem, a big problem. OH! I felt that. It's cold because it's outside my body and it's NASTY! I cringe and try to stand without parting my legs. That's right, I've started my period. I bend at my knees to pick up my boots and held them close before I make way to the fortress, to the gardens where I know the women there will help me with my problem.

I take a several deep breaths before I focus on tightening my inner muscles, hopefully slowing down the bleeding. It's worked before when I couldn't get on my break just yet to head to the bathrooms at work so I'm hoping that it'll work now. I need a bath now, a proper bath, not just a scrubbing. Wait, first thing's first. Stopping, I put my fingers to my lower back, just on my waist line of borrowed pants and walk my fingers along my lower back, trying to feel where the cramps are. Already I can feel them and with a gentle push and some pain later, my cramps are gone. Pushing in ovaries, best way to get rid of cramps not to mention, I won't get any for another period. Joy.

The walk, or rather climb, to the library was a rather difficult one considering I tried to keep my thighs together at all times and passing by men, I felt like I had a target on my back and that everyone knew that my monthly visitor has arrived. It was highly embarrassing, awkward, not to mention, just plain weird. I was thankful I hadn't bumped into anyone on my way to the library, avoiding eye contact with any and all who looked my way as I climbed the steps of the library. I could avoid Al Mualim, the guards and the informants who scoured the library shelves, searching for inner wisdom from the written words. Passing under the master of the assassins, I felt even more awkward but once in the gardens, the feeling of dread passed.

"You've returned." I heard Alima say as she walked up, her garb flowing gently with every step. "Child, what's wrong, you look frightened."

I bit my lower lip, keeping my eyes to the ground. "I'm on my period."

"Pardon?"

Oh right, the term period wasn't around during this time. I couldn't say Aunt Flow either and most definitely couldn't mention a visitor. "My…bleedings…"

I heard the woman laugh with an airy breath before hugging my tightly. "Your moon cycle has begun, I see. Come; let's get you prepared for this endeavor."

I don't go with her though, my feet firmly locked in place. "There is one problem: I leave with Altair tomorrow."

Alima's eyes flashed as a wicked grin appeared on her face. "All the more reason for you to stop at an inn every night instead of sleeping out in the open like a dog. He may be at his master's beck and call but you, child, are not." I nod but say nothing. "The boy needs to understand that a woman needs a proper bed."

A bed. I haven't slept in one since I arrived here, having only the cushions in Malik's bureau as my only comfort. Altair's back, the ground, and a door are not proper means of a bed at all and I was missing how soft they could be. But first thing's first. "How do you prevent stains?" I asked as she led me back into the ivied pagoda, her hand on my lower back.

She smiled as two gardens girls came close, fabrics in their arms. "We use what we have." Rags? I cringe and try not to think of it. "You'll need to dress properly now, not like a boy, insure that you are fully covered, should there be any stains." Once again, I'm stripped from my head to my toes but this time, I'm given a wooden tub to sit in as water is slowly filled. I don't like taking baths while on my period so I'm trying not to be grossed out by the whole situation. However, the heat of the waters was very comforting and relaxing. "You'll need to dress as a woman," Alima stated, setting down folds of fabrics near the tub before waving the girls on to leave the pagoda. "Wash yourself and then dress; I'll have some fruits for you to eat to sustain your appetite."

Food, oh food. Yes! Already I'm scrubbing my legs before pausing; I've got leg hair again. Reaching out of the tub, my fingers barely touching one of my boots, I tried to grab what I needed, the knife. It's sharp enough to kill a man with, that was certain, but maybe I could use it to shave? Shouldn't be too hard. Well, that's what I thought. Many nicks and cuts later, my legs are smooth again and I'm a happy camper, granted, I'm bleeding but I'm happy nonetheless and the feeling of hairless legs was a good feeling. Setting down the knife, I stand from the tub, shivering before reaching for whatever form of towel they had given me, wrapped it around myself and looked through the vines of the pagoda. The gardens were surprisingly empty and I found this odd considering that the garden girls live in the gardens, hence their titles. A shiver crawled up my back and my eyes went wide. He wouldn't have already started, would he? I bit my lip and shook my head. I can't think about that, I can't. Don't think about it because thinking about it means I act differently and acting differently could change everything. Don't think about it!

Instead, I quickly wash, in however way I can, my underwear in clean water before dumping the waters in the tub and dress quickly. Rags, rags, rags, I know they provided me with some, I know they did. Spotting some quickly, I gave no second thought to them and left the pagoda once again, this time, my tunic was a dress. I guess this is what they meant by layers. Wrapping my red sash around my waist, I looked around the gardens. I'm half temped to call out to someone but then again, I know better. I sat in the middle of a grassy area and pulled on my boots, thankful that they were back on my feet.

An apple was set on my head before it rolled down and landed in my hands. Oh! Apple! I smiled and nibbled on it happily as I looked up, seeing Mysha smiling down at me. "You're in need of it, as Alima said." I nodded, taking a huge chunk out of the apple, the juice going down my chin before I licked it away. "You like them?"

"You have no idea," I said loudly through food in my mouth. I'm happy I got fruit in my mouth, I'm happy I got something yummy and sweet in my mouth and holy cow, I love apples! "Can I stay here for the night? I've pissed off Altair, again, and my bed's been taken over." Mysha laughed before sitting next to me, hugging my arm as she nods. "Good, I'm told I need to sleep in a bed."

She looked over at me with her large green eyes. "We sleep on cushions." Oh, god the Malik way again. I don't mind that. When will I see him again? I know that Altair has to go to Jerusalem soon and then I can see him again. It's been nearly a month since I had seen him. I giggled and hugged my knees. "You're happy about this?" I just laugh and nod. I don't know how the time went by but the conversation went from the cushions to the brotherhood, to boys, and then finally, as the sun was setting, Mysha looked over at me, her eyebrow raised.

"Why are you here?"

Looking over at the younger girl, I was confused before I sighed and looked up at the dying daylight. "I don't know why I'm here. Does anyone really know why they're here?"

She giggled and stood, walking away before turning around to look at me, a smile on her face as her light steps skipped her backwards. "I'm here to be a garden girl and to continue helping the brotherhood. I respect the creed."

Respect the creed… Putting my hand to my ankle, I imagined the tattoo that was clinging to my skin. Did I respect the creed, the brotherhood, by marking myself? The moon began to shine her pale blue light on the earth as these thoughts danced in my head. Perhaps, perhaps not, I'm part of the creed now that this is on my ankle, now that I'm trusted by the master of the assassins. I heard the ivied doors close, locking us out of the library but locking those who would do harm out. Perhaps I should stay here in the gardens while Altair kills his next target. The stars twinkle at me and I grin. "Nah."

For once, I'm actually enjoying my stay here.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Disclaimer: I don't own anything UbiSoft does.

A/N: Thank you for your reviews. Alright, so yeah, they're on their way to Damascus, I couldn't think of anything else for her to do in Masyaf, though more will become available in the near future. And I'm sorry about the missed update last week, my computer had a virus and after running several scans, clean ups and whatnot, the time and date had already passed so I'm sorry about that. I'd rather be safe than sorry.

I awoke to the rising sun, my back and neck complaining like they always did in the mornings. I had slept away from cushions, again. I wish I had followed Mysha to the cushions and slept in the comfort of the soft fabrics but instead, I let the stars whisper a lullaby to me, the grasses playing their soft songs in my ear as the winds were my blanket. I guess I couldn't complain too much about my stiffness considering I haven't seen grass in forever and this was a good morning. "You're up." Strike that.

Turning my head, I could see the white robed assassin, his eyes watching me closely. Hold on, he wasn't angry or upset, at least, he wasn't showing it in his face. The wind blew again, moving the fabrics that covered our bodies, twirling some of my hair that had fallen from its braid Mysha gave me the night before. "Do you make a habit of rising with the sun?" His eyes narrowed and I could see that familiar look again. I closed my eyes and turned away. "Alright, I'm up."

"Then we leave now." Say what? I turned back around but I could already see Alima watching from one of the ivied pagodas, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Altair caught sight of her too but returned his gaze at me. "Be quick about it then."

Alima kept her eyes on where Altair had disappeared to, gaining my attention once more before I stood, catching her eye. "The boy expects you to be ready when he is. Men, impatient beasts if there ever was one," she said, holding an arm out to be beside her. I smiled before I draw to her, like a child to a mother, happy to be by her side once again. "You, dear child, have to go, yet again. I had hoped you would stay for more than a day, since that seems to be the only time you have for those of us who live in the gardens. Keep him in line." Keep him in line? I have to keep myself in line to make sure I don't mess up anything important.

"Keep these on you," she said suddenly, handing me what felt like three pounds worth of cotton linens in a sack. "You're going to need them." Embarrassed, I bowed my head, putting the sack on, holding the strap in both hands, and turned to leave. I'll be back here once his mission is over, whenever that is. I'm sure of it. Besides, that woman, she was concerned over the Apple. If I want to get home, I'm pretty sure that I'll have to stay close to it no matter what.

Racing out of the gardens and library wasn't hard to do, even waving to Ra'uf, who was once again at the training ring with his students, but it was the run in Masyaf that got me. I could have taken the route I normally do in the game, down the many buildings, jumping from rooftop to rooftop to get to the bottom but I'm not an assassin, I'm not a super parkour specialist, I'm just a normal fangirl on her period. Joy. The market place of Masyaf wasn't as bustling and buzzing as usual, even if it was morning, but still, the sight of rafiks and assassins alike made up for the lack of civilians. Ahead, the wooden gate of Masyaf and past it, the horses and further on, the holy lands. The whole world was out there, ready to be taken by just about anyone into power and yet, I knew it would never be, at least, not from what history told me.

Once I reached the wooden gate of Masyaf, my lungs begging for me to take a breath as I swallowed, hoping to relieve the heat of my lungs, I could hear the talking of the returning assassins, the recollection of the fights they have just come from, of past events, swapping war stories, scars, even tips. However, none of them had spoken one word of the nine I knew Altair was facing, now four. Lifting my shawl to cover my head, I stepped through the gate, seeing Altair checking the supplies of a brown horse, the saddle and bridle already made up and waiting. The saddle bag wasn't as large as his were on the mare and I wasn't complaining about it, I just felt my heart break in many pieces over Kadin still. I wanted the black stallion to be in the place of the brown stud but instead, the sounds of horse screams fill my head, watering my eyes once again.

No, I can't cry over him, not now. Wiping my eyes, I quickly made my way to one of the saddle bags, taking my sack from my shoulder. Altair watched me carefully, I noticed, but said nothing as he climbed on the mare. When I was sure my supplies were secure, I mounted the horse, feeling his breathing between my thighs with every breath moving his ribs. Altair and I shared a look before he reared up the mare, shouting in the air and off we went.

Riding, I'll never forget the feeling. I felt like I could fly and with how fast we were going, it was almost as if I was. Ahead by maybe a few feet, Altair rose on the mare. The flying eagle, all in white, almost foreboding, like one of the four horsemen, an angel of death. It was a chilling image, one I didn't want in my head and yet I couldn't get it out, especially since he was racing ahead of me, his hand gripping the reins tightly. My heels nudged at my horse's side, urging him to go faster. I still didn't know where we were going but with the way that we were riding, I had a feeling that it wouldn't be long until I found out. Thinking back on it now, I had been to Jerusalem and to Acre, perhaps we were going to Damascus? I felt a smile appear on my face as the two horses jumped over a fallen pillar.

The morning sun racing with us to touch the earth with its fiery kiss, the sand flying in the air from the winds and the pounding of the hooves and the heavy breathing of the beast beneath me, half of the day passed so quickly without notice; no conversation, no need to talk, the wind whispered its secrets in its hissing voice. I recognized the way a little, passing by familiar rocks, and a tower along the way, everything burning an imprint in my mind. I need to know the way, the way back to Masyaf. But why? I would be traveling with Altair, but something in me told me that I need to know it, to not forget. Don't forget, don't forget, don't forget, I chanted in my head, it running along with my homesickness.

I suppose something made him slow, perhaps it was a small village showing its outline on the horizon but Altair slowed Anisa, her back hooves digging into the sand to slow from her gallop. Pulling on my horse's reins, I slowed him as well, the stride matching the white mare. "Why did you stop?" I asked, wondering if there was something up ahead that I should know about. The assassin turned his head, looking at me from the corner of his eye, the golden orb watching me carefully before it rolled forward again. He said nothing, only clicking his tongue, keeping Anisa moving. Sighing, I regarded his back, trying to figure out why he acts like he does. I'll probably never understand the assassin, he's such a mystery. Looking ahead, I could tell that caravans were making their way out of the small village, coming for us. It didn't look too large head on but I know that caravans could hold up to a hundred or so people. I tugged on the reins, moving my horse to be by Altair's.

When I was within arm reach, Altair grabbed my arm, pulling me close to him, as another hand went to my face. My inner fangirl screamed loudly as I closed my eyes tightly. Something soft pressed against my nose before the warmth of his hands left my body. When I opened my eyes once again, I had to squint with how bright everything had become. It wasn't the sand that reflected the sun nor the metal bracer of the hidden blade, no; instead, it was the white fabric that covered my face from my eye lashes down. The assassin tucked an extra piece of fabric from my shawl around my face. Turning my gaze to Altair, I saw him shake his head in just the slightest movement, I nearly missed it. "Keep your eyes down and don't speak," he ordered and at once I felt my heart stop from fear, doing as I was told, lowering my head so my eyes were studying my hands. Tugging on my sleeves, I tried to cover them as much as I could. I'm lily white compared to the natives of the Middle East, their sun kissed skin a great contrast to mine.

All at once, my ears were suddenly filled with noise of metal gently scrapping against each other, the harsh sounds of deep rough voices, all male, the squeaking of wooden wheels and the rumble of many hooves. The caravan must be very large to make such noise, that much was certain. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw many covered carts and wagons roll by, some of them with their sides exposed. Those that were exposed were filled with many different things: weapons, woman and children, small animals such as chickens while large livestock followed behind on yolks, pulled on by ropes and chains. One of the many men riding on horseback had spotted Altair and myself, making his way through the caravan to pull up to us, stopping in front. Altair's hand on my reins tightened as he pulled both of our horses to a stop.

"Hold, friend," I heard, not trusting myself to look up. "You look weary." Altair's hand didn't relax. He didn't trust this person. "Perhaps you and your woman would like water?" I could hear the sneer in his oily voice, sending chills up my back. "The village up ahead is plagued with the infidel sickness; supplies are hard to come by there."

Straining my ears, I could almost hear Altair's teeth grit. "We have enough supplies, let us by."

The man snorted, the thick liquid sound made my stomach roll before I heard him hack and finally spit, the impact heavy on the sand. The noise enough was making me nauseous. "Enough supplies you say? Where are you heading, stranger?"

"That business is of none of your concern," the assassin growled out. In my head, I pictured Altair's shoulders raising just a small amount, his head lowering, defenses ready. "I'll say again, let us by."

The man gave a throaty laugh, the noise sounding closer. "Your horses are tired. You've been running quite a long ways. A suggestion, friend, perhaps it would be best if you spare one horse the torment of bearing unneeded weight and sell your girl." My breath hitched in my throat. "I'll take her off your hands for you. The caravan is traveling to meet with Saladin's forces. They could use a woman to help…bind their wounds," he said in a slick voice. Under the veil, I made a face, not liking where the conversation was heading.

Altair said nothing but tugged on the reins to lead the horse away. As we passed by the man, I could feel him staring at me, the intensity of his gaze making me feel sick but his laughter in the back, behind us from what I could tell, made me feel a little better. Watching out of the corner of my eye, I waited until the last of the men on horses went by, hearing the distant rumble of the hooves in the background before I tugged away my veil. "That sick bastard," I growled out, wanting to turn around and find the man to throttle him.

"Women are not handled in such a precious manner," Altair told me, letting me have control of my horse again. I snorted at him, grabbing the reins of my horse, turning my head away. I knew that war made men different however, this wasn't just war, this was the treatment I grew up knowing they had towards women. Maybe not all men in the Middle East but a fair amount did and it was disgusting. I have to admit though, the Crusaders were of the same caliber, just as crude, just as barbaric and I'm thankful no one of my blood came from such beasts.

I finally turned to Altair, wanting to know some information, pronto. "Where are we going and how long until we get there?"

The assassin looked at me from the corner of his eye. "Damascus. It's a two day ride, three if we keep getting stopped by the caravans," he said, turning to look behind him in emphasis. "They might have originated from the city itself." I nodded with his words before realizing that my horse was following his and that the mare wasn't going through the village. "The risk of the village having the plague may or may not exist. It would be best to avoid it," he said when I questioned him silently.

The village was really bigger than I had expected, it was almost a town it was that large. I was half expecting a crier to be shouting the news, the support of Saladin or perhaps cursing King Richard. I never saw a villager, the area seemed to be dead, almost as if it was completely wiped out and the buildings were all that remained. Ruins of an old culture… My mind went back to the cages of the caravan, of the women and children. Were they captured slaves, forced into the caravan to be play things for deprived soldiers fighting against the Anglos? I shuddered again, trying not to give thought to it anymore.

The ride around the village was quiet, no more words passed between the two of us, only the huffs of the horses, their hooves, and the wind. Damascus. Giving thought to the city, I realized which one of the nine Altair would be charged with by taking his life: Abul Nuqoud, the merchant king of Damascus. I wasn't afraid of the man, by any means, no. The self-proclaimed king was a sickly man, round and portly, disgusting pox marks on his face while stretch marks cover the fat belly of his, rings on his sausage fingers, turning them a darker hue than the rest of his skin. Yeah, I remember killing him in the game but now, I was sort of terrified. Not of him, no, but what he would do, what he had done in the game and what he could possibly do thanks to my interference. I can only hope that I wouldn't follow Altair on this mission.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that rightfully belongs to UbiSoft.

A/N: Not quite at Damascus just yet.

The sun was so powerful today, much more so than usual. I had no idea why but logic said that I was on my period and would get hot easily however, even if I drank a million skins, I couldn't cool myself. This was a horrible thing to go through and I wanted nothing better than to just find a tree and sit in its shade all day. Nothing but be lazy but instead, I'm riding a horse, traveling with a stoic assassin who hasn't given word since our encounters with the merchants traveling from Damascus. I didn't want to be here, it's too hot. But all of my belly-aching never made it to my lips; I know better to not complain out loud, especially around Altair. I didn't want to be scolded, not anytime soon at least.

The horses panted while we rode on, the heat getting to the gentle beasts as well. The only one who didn't seem to be affected by this monstrous heat was the assassin. He didn't seem to falter, like he wasn't even feeling this heat. How could he not? Dry, disgusting heat, I hated it and yet we traveled all day in it. My eyes played tricks on me once, thinking that there was water on the sand. I have to admit that I nearly jumped from my horse to chase it down had Altair not given me a skin. I looked at his face, his sun-kissed wasn't even showing signs of fatigue or of the heat, it was almost unbearably cruel but there was something in his eyes, something that flashed quickly. Worry; concern? I didn't give it a second though as I drank the fresh water handed to me.

The sun was dipped low and already, I could tell that my companion was anxious to set up camp. We were near a village, one that I was sure that we'd simply pass through without second thought but Alima's words echoed in my mind. "Alima said we should stop at an inn."

"The mother hen will think that but she's never set foot outside of Masyaf," came his reply, his tone full of scoff and disrespect. What was it about her that he felt he had to defend himself from? True, I hear her talk about him as if he was a child but this was new. I had never heard him speak like this outside of the game; it was almost a bit surreal.

I sighed, wanting so much to take a bath, to relieve myself and to get in a soft bed but instead, the assassin wanted to press on. Didn't he know anything about women? "I'd like to sleep in an inn," I muttered, using a tone that I knew he'd question.

Instead, the assassin pressed on, clicking his tongue to speed the horses up. I, however, slowed my own down. When Altair noticed, he turned in his saddle, clearly aggravated. "Why would you want to stop at an inn?"

A flush covered my face; I could feel my ears start to burn. I couldn't tell him the truth; it's embarrassing enough knowing that he might spot the bit of red that might bleed through. "It's none of your business why. I just want to! Besides, Alima says I need to sleep in a bed."

He rolled his eyes, he actually rolled his eyes! I have never seen or heard of Altair rolling his eyes so it was a major shock on my part. "The mother of the gardens says that to every woman." What he said soon caught me off guard. They allowed their garden girls outside of Masyaf? I had never heard of it before but I guess it would makes sense. What better way to kill a Templar than to wait until he's at his weakest or most vulnerable and some men weren't able to get them like that, women were able to. Poison, maybe even killing while the men slept, women could be used in such a way like assassins: the nightmares of any sane man. The way that Altair said this though, it was like he had a hidden sadness, something that troubled him greatly. Adha, was she one of those trained to be a bedroom killer? It broke my heart to think so.

The assassin sighed after some time before walking his horse into the village, further in the heart. I followed diligently, unsure if I had just won a small victory or if he was going to find a way to get rid of me, either way, he was watching me closely to see if I would follow, the prick. The sun was setting low, painting the walls of the buildings a brilliant orange before seeping into a dark red. I wanted to ask where we were heading but at the same time, I felt like I would know when I got there. The horses stuck together as torches were lit around the area, lighting up the village for those still traveling to their homes and perhaps for the guards as well though I hadn't seen any. Yawning, I realized that right about this time, Altair would be making a fire and find some food somewhere for us to eat and while he does something, sharpening his knives or something, I'm curling up to get some sleep.

The horses made a sudden turn into an alley before Altair dismounted, grabbing something from a saddle bag before petting his horse's muzzle. I watched before getting off my own horse, petting its flank before following the assassin. I didn't stay too close to him, in fear that if were suddenly attacked, I'd be able to run away without a mark. Yawning, I felt tears prick at my eyes but as I wiped them away, I saw Altair turn a corner before raising his hand, knocking on the wood twice before opening the door. I had a moment of déjà vu, thinking of another hooded assassin doing the same. As I watched, another came to the door, his foot stopping Altair from entering but at the same time, enough space to peek out of safely.

"What should you, a brother, want here? We have no room to spare for a traitor like you, Son of None," I heard. The man speaking was not trusting of Altair and given his current history, I could see why. "You're not welcome, go away," he said quickly, the door ready to shut had Altair not set his own foot to block the door. I wanted to giggle at the door blocking war. "What is it?"

"You have room, Omar, you have never refused to house a brother before today." I saw the hood tilt before hearing the voice that sent shivers up my spine. "I wonder what Al Mualim would think." It felt wrong hearing him say that, it wasn't like him but at the same time, I was blushing too hard to really care.

I could see the hand on the door tense, the knuckles turn white from the threat. I could tell that it was working considering that he kept glancing from Altair to something behind the door. "Fine, I'll accommodate you."

"And her," Altair said, pointing to me. The man at the door, Omar, he looked at me incredulously before nodding as well.

This was a safe house if I were to guess. It didn't have the feel of a home, more like bureau but at the same time, it was cozy. How odd. There were voices coming from different rooms, one of them a female voice, the other was a child, no men. It wasn't that unusual, it was just a little unnerving. I didn't like being in a place I didn't know so I was a little on edge the whole time. When the woman of the house came out, she smiled warmly, her hair in curls, as if from a braid. "Ah, guests. Please, come break bread with us, we were just about to eat," she said, wiping her hands on a rag in her hands.

I smiled and nodded, ready to get some good food in me but Altair merely shook his head, going to talk to Omar about something, their voices too low for me to hear them. "You mustn't worry about them. Those of the brotherhood always stop by. It's a wonder to see a new face here, especially a girl," I heard the woman say.

Giggling, I nodded. "I'm going to be traveling with Altair some. We're on our way to Damascus, I suspect," I said, earning a nod from the woman before she walked to what looked like a sturdy table, setting some hard bread on the surface. "How much further is it from here?"

"Damascus? Not too far, I'd say perhaps another day or two. My man wants to move us there but with how things are there, I don't think we will. It's easier to just stay here in the village. We wouldn't have to worry about the Crusaders then."

Nodding, I knew that Altair's next target had a firm hand on the trades in Damascus but another Jubair, he's the one everyone would be afraid of soon. I felt my stomach gurgle, which reminded me. Lowering my voice and head, I drew near the woman. "Can I wash; my bleedings have started and I haven't done anything about them since the night before." Why didn't I change my rag this morning? Two words: fucking assassin. After being told where the washroom was, I passed by Altair and the man Omar, both of them watching me as I passed, both of them had paused in their conversation, as if worried I'd overhear them. Paranoid men.

Replacing the rag was easy enough after scrubbing, joy, scrubbings, and tossing the dirty one away, YUCK, I went to wash my hands. When I came back, both men were gone and the only ones left was the woman, a child and I. "The men left. Your man wanted to discuss some matters with him, something important, I suspect." I blushed at her words but nodded, sitting next to the child. It was a little boy and he was adorable. He was of healthy weight with cute pinch-able cheeks and the sweetest smile. Children are so cute.

I didn't eat too much of her food, only indulging myself in a hard bread and a few dates before I turned in for the night. The beds there, straw and itchy and whenever I rolled around, I woke up to the sound of the straw sliding and crinkling together, it was very distracting. I didn't know where Altair slept and personally didn't care, I was just happy I was in a bed, finally.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Disclaimer: I don't own AC.

A/N: Yeah, short chapter was short. I was pressed with time and life got in the way, yeah. SO! This one is going to be a long one, I warn you now. Also, I'm going to draw some scenes from the fic and they'll be on my dA (link in profile) so in case you want to see a particular scene from the fic, I'll draw it out to the best of my abilities.

Waking up, I could already tell that the day was going to be a long one simple because I woke up to the child screaming in the middle of the night. Groaning, I rolled over, hearing the hay beneath me rustle and crunch beneath my weight. When my hand reached out next to me, I was surprised; the spot right next to me was warm, almost hot to the touch. Sitting up, I looked around the room but with such little lighting, I could only see blurs and shapes. The warmth on the bed however was large, but it was all concentrated on one space, almost like someone was lying next to me. No one should have been next to me, I sleep alone. The man Omar and his wife had their room and their son I'm sure had his own or shared with his parents and Altair wouldn't sleep next to me even if his life depended on it. I shook my head before scratching away the itches. If I get fleas, someone would be in a world of pain. Nasty little bugs.

Crawling out of the bed, I slipped into the shoes Alima had given me, my boots in Masyaf, and stood, stretching my whole body. The bed wasn't uncomfortable per say, I just couldn't find a spot that wouldn't make too many noises when I moved in my sleep. My hair was a mess, I knew that already but after putting on my shawl, I left my borrowed room. The house was eerily quiet, the kid must have been comforted by a parent and both are probably asleep. None lanterns in the house was lit but the light from the outside shone through cracks and holes in the wall gave enough for me to see the lay-out of the house. It was like a small family apartment, a large room leading into other rooms. There was a table to sit and eat at, a small fire place that worked as a stove by many of the raised bricks by it, a shelf that held many scrolls, books, and a few odds and ends but on one of the middle shelves lay a rolled up rug.

The wall with the door had a small window covered by a thin frayed sheet; to keep the light out and for those looking out from seeing in but there was also a wooden shutter that hung next to it. For sandstorms and to help muffle the noises of outside, if I was to guess. Another shelf lined a wall where my borrowed room was, that filled with candles, lamps, pots, some boxes, and baskets. Meats and herbs were hung near the table, ready to be used for the next meal. A strange tugging sensation came from my spine, warning me. Turning around, I saw Altair looking at me, his arms crossed as he was leaned against a wall. Right as I opened my mouth, he raised a finger to his lips. Right, had to be quiet so not to wake the inhabitants. Drawing near, I lowered my head, keeping my eyes on the deadly assassin. He was so eerie standing there, looking like a ghost rather than a man. "What are you doing awake?" I whispered, wondering why he's up at this godforsaken hour when he's on a mission.

I saw his eye glimmer in the darkness and thought of nocturnal predators, feeling a cold chill run through my being. "I could ask you the very same," he said in a very soft voice. In this hushed silences, he's perfectly calm, his gold eyes watching me, as if I should make a wrong move. "You were asleep naught but few moments ago."

Much to my chagrin, I blushed. Why did I do this? I'll never know. "I woke up to a scream."

"A scream?" There was confusion in his voice as I saw his eyebrows knit together. "There was no scream."

What? No I remember there being a scream. "The kid didn't scream?" Huh? I woke up to one though, it was still ringing in my ears when I woke up though, it was so real. "I heard one though."

"Elisheba." Looking up at him, I saw a very steady gaze in his eyes. "There was no scream. You were dreaming."

Was I dreaming? Putting a hand to my head, trying to recall a vision, a smell, a touch, anything that would normally be in my subconscious from a dream, anything I could remember. Instead, nothing. It was like I never had a dream, ever. No, I remember dreams I've had: reoccurring, nightmares, even the ones that made no sense whatsoever and yet, I can't remember having any since my arrival here. Nearly a month without dreams…

No, no, maybe I just don't remember my dreams, that had to be it. Looking back up at the assassin, I could see the obvious worry in his eyes. Of course, to him, I was seeing people, hearing things, to him, I'm going batshit. "Maybe you're right," I muttered, trying to ease his mind. Clearing my throat, I looked away, first at the ground, then at a wall. "So, we're heading to Damascus?"

Glancing at him out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nod. "Al Mualim has targeted Abul Nuquod next," he said, watching my reaction.

Nodding, I glanced back at him. "The merchant king." His eyes widened a bit, making me raise my hand before he said anything. "I don't know the man; I only know that his reputation precedes him." He said nothing but I would guess he was satisfied with this answer. "Out of the nine, what's the count?"

"This shall be the fifth." Since my arrival, he has only killed two men, Talal from Jerusalem and William in Acre. "It will be a day before we arrive at Damascus, should the weather stay fair," he said, in a hushed tone, but I was half way listening. Abul Nuqoud, Majd Addin, Sibrand, Jaubair, Robert de Sable, each one in the three cities, each one with a feather over their heads waiting to soak up their lifeblood. Wait, no, Robert wouldn't be in Jerusalem, that's right. Maria would take his spot. I glanced back at Altair as my mind rested on her. Would he fight her like in the game, rip away the helmet at the last minute or would he kill her without knowing that Robert was somewhere else? Do I need to step in or not? Looking away, I chewed on my lower lip, giving it a hard thought. "Elisheba." My concentration snapped as I looked back up at the assassin. His eyes moved over my face, as if searching for something. "You're tired," he said after some time. "Go back to sleep."

Shaking my head, I refused. Moving away, I sat at the table, my elbows meeting the wood as I held my head up. "I'm not tired. You could use some sleep though. You're on a mission that requires you to use a lot of your energy. Go sleep and don't say you'll sleep at the bureau because I have a strong hunch that you won't." I saw Altair's hood cover his eyes before he nodded, leaving to room silently. The man could put cats to shame with his silence and grace, it just wasn't natural. Low and behold, guess what, he heads to the room I was just asleep in. Even if I wanted to get some sleep, the assassin took the room and I'm positive he was also going to sleep in the bed. How do you like that?

Sighing, my fingers drifted down my neck to the chain that held the contraceptive charm. Why exactly had Al Mualim given this to me? It wasn't like Altair and I were going to sleep together, or for the matter, I wasn't going to sleep with anyone so why this? It wasn't like birth control in my time, where women relied on pills, shots, weird implants in the body and yet, this simple charm stops pregnancy. I was iffy about it but as I rolled the charm up and down the chain, a thought occurred to me. Perhaps he was looking out for my well being? Maybe he knew that I wasn't going to sleep with the trained assassin so maybe he might use me on a mission of my own? No, no, definitely not. I'm not one of those in the creed, I have no reason to go on my own mission and I'm most definitely not one of his garden girls. The only other reason of giving me the charm was…rape. The thought was heavy and it could come true. The charm wouldn't prevent a rape attack but instead, make sure I wouldn't carry the seed of the attacker. I let the charm fall back down against my chest, bumping into the fabric of my dress before settling. Making an oath to myself, I promised I'd learn how to wield a blade in order to protect myself.

A cough from the other room made me jump in my skin, my heart stopping for a split second. Damn it, these people were going to put me in an early grave! Setting a hand to my head, I took a deep breath before nodding to myself, a nervous giggle passing from my lips. "It's okay, calm down," I whispered to no one. A yawn took me by surprise, startling me but as I covered my mouth, one of my arms laid flat against the table, and I felt myself slowly relax. Laying my head down against my arms, I shut my eyes. Just five minutes, I told myself, just five minutes.

-.-.-

I woke up to a hand on my shoulder but I didn't open my eyes, only instead felt as I was leaned back, a strong arm around my shoulders and another hand moving my legs before tucking under my knees. I was lifted up and pressed into a deep chest, a familiar scent filling my nose but I couldn't place where I've smelled it before. We were moving very carefully before I heard wood creak and the sounds of boots on hard floors.

I was moved away and set down on the familiar crush of hay before a weight covered me, the boots against the floor again and the wood creaking once again.

-.-.-

The smells of cooking meat woke me up, well, that and I felt like I was being watched. Cracking an eye open, I saw the young boy staring back at me, anticipation in his eyes as the light sparkled in the honeyed brown eyes. I groaned and covered my head, hearing him giggle before I felt his weight on me. Please don't make him jump on me, please, please, please! However, I was mildly surprised when he pulled back my covers and his hands sought out my sides. He was trying to tickle me and even though I was ticklish, this was so not happening. However, even though I stopped him and shooed him out the room, I had a smile on my face.

I didn't really need to be in the room anymore but I put a hand to my head and rubbed one of my eyes. "How did I get back here?" I remember talking to Altair and him walking away, then sitting at the table…I must have fallen asleep and then brought back here.

Shaking it off, I opened the door, going to the "lavatory", did my business before meeting up with the family and Altair. The child was happily chatting with his mother who sat over a brick stove, cooking something that smelled delicious and once again, Altair was discussing something with the man Omar. The assassin looked my way, regarding me for a moment before turning back at Omar.

"You are awake," I heard the woman say in a pleasant voice.

I smiled politely, sitting on my knees beside her. "Yes. Thank you for letting me use the bed."

The meat I realized was to be eaten for later, much to my stomach's displeasure but after getting tossed a few apples, sating my hunger, Altair stood from his spot with Omar, checking his weapons before his head motioned to the door. Right, he was still on a mission and it was time to go.

Leaving with more supplies, some food to go, we were well on our way to the horses. Mounting my horse, I felt the familiar burn in my thighs and the scent of horses made me feel a little better. Smiling, I reached down, petting my horse's neck, for once, hoping that the day would be a good one. "You are well rested."

Peering over, I saw Altair on the mare, his hand busy with the hidden blade, extending and retracting the blade a few times, the sound sending chills down my spine. "Yes, I slept alright considering." He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "Hay tends to be itchy and also, rolling over makes a lot of noises." I sighed before closing my eyes. "Beggars can't be choosers though so I'm thankful I slept on something other than the ground."

I heard him snort before clicking his tongue, beginning the rest of our journey to Damascus. Tucking my shawl around my head, I nudged my horse's sides, following him.

After some time, perhaps well past the village, I fiddled with the reins, feeling the leather under my fingertips. "You know, as great as it was, I kind of missed making camp." Altair's hood turned my way. "I guess I missed sleeping under the stars." The assassin shrugged a shoulder, making me giggle. The rest of the trip was in silence, only movement the two of us made, other than my stretching, was perhaps passing a skin back and forth, a quiet agreement between the two of us.

By mid day, noonish I suppose, the edge of Damascus began to show itself on the horizon. Altair and I passed a shared glance before I smirked and off we shot, as if hell itself was nipping at our heels. The sandy city, one that held the next target and hopefully, Altair will remember what I said back In Masyaf and not expect me to help again. This is his mission, his life, his history, I just have to sit back and watch. I'm always watching, I guess, but you don't hear me complaining.

Damascus, the layout wasn't as familiar to me as Jerusalem or Acre but I remembered where the targets would be and Abul's was easy to figure out and if I was careful, I would figure out the layout quickly. Would that mean that I would have to climb up viewpoints as well? To be honest, I would hope not. As Damascus came into larger view, Altair's horse slowed to a walk and of course, mine followed as well, only staying in step with his. "If you wander outside of the bureau, know you're way back to it. I will not be around to save you if trouble finds you."

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Oh right, like I'm the one that causes trouble. You're the one running from guards. They see you and the next thing you know, you're on a mad dash to run and hide." I saw him glare, his hand tightening on the reins of his horse. "I'm not calling you a coward, I'm just saying, you're the trouble maker here, not me."

I think I won that argument.

When we reached the small shopping area outside of Damascus, we dismounted from the horses. Already, I could see the wheels turning in his head on how to get in the guarded entrance but as we drew near the great gate; the guards were actually letting people in. How odd. They'd normally be stopping anyone trying to get in but I'll bet that after the assassination, that the gates will once again be guarded so that Altair couldn't get out.

Biting my lower lip, I followed close to the assassin as we went through the stone arches, passing by the guards, all of them armed, many with their hands on their swords. There were a lot of people roaming the city but none of them appeared to be aware of the deadly man in their midst. Why should they? He looked like a heavily armed scholar and wasn't a threat unless you were a target or a guard. "How long do you think this'll last?" I asked, keeping my voice low even though with how vague I was, I doubt anyone would know what I was talking about.

I heard fabric move before his deep voice sounded out. "I'll end the mission as quickly as possible, if things should go right." My heart suddenly skipped a beat and I felt almost an impending doom loom over my head. What was it that made me think this?


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that UbiSoft has made, I swear I don't.

A/N: Thank you for your reviews and I'm sorry that the chapters have been dull.

Damascus wasn't what I expected as a rendition from the game. The layout was the same and the people were as busy as always but I felt as if something was new. The further we got in Damascus, the more this new feeling was. It was familiar and refreshing but I couldn't put my finger on it. Passing by jar carriers and thugs as they wrung their hands, I felt a wave hit me from the side and peered over. The river! The humidity I hadn't felt in a long time made me a lot more comfortable about the city now; I couldn't believe I had forgotten the river. Oh, the humid air felt wonderful, a smile on my face. I could see that nearly every building was connected, if not by walls than by with beams leading from one rooftop to another.

I heard a woman scream about a killer and saw Altair stiffen as the sounds of many boots sounded close before three guards passed, one of them slowing to a stop, clearly out of breath and as he bent over, I heard him gasp. "Well done, assassin, well done." They hadn't spotted Altair and as long as he didn't make a sudden move, I doubt that they would suspect him.

Glancing over at the hooded man, I saw him frown as his eyes narrowed. "Altair?"

"They're after one of my brothers," I heard him grit out. Unsure of what to do, I could only watch as he contemplated helping out his fellow assassin.

We still walked on but he was following where the guards went. "Altair, go, perhaps he could give you information in return for the favor," I said, noticing an area where many merchants were benches all around, plenty to sit and ignore the crowds as they move. I wasn't given a reply but as I looked around, I could already see Altair moving to go help his brother. He had changed in such a small amount of time since the incident in the temple beneath Jerusalem.

It was more prominent now than in the game I believe. Maybe it's because I'm seeing this growth in person. The way Altair looks at things, the way asks questions, it's showing that he's willing to change. I grinned as I sat on a bench, noting that as wise as he'll be in his future and how perceptive he is, he has yet to put two and two together: the nine men he's sent to kill, the tasks that they do, the way that it's put together, he doesn't notice any of this. I smiled to myself, keeping a mental timeline, almost as if he was a child maturing into an adult. How odd that I should think that but perhaps it's because I know his future, the good that he'll do, of whom he'll become, and the legacy that will follow in his footprints. Altair, the son of none, the best assassin known to man.

I felt something in my heart, something click, almost like a puzzle was put together. I was seeing the assassin differently. I knew he wouldn't be mine, never mine, but I was regarding him as if he was a project, something I had to take care of, something that I had to make sure grew into what he'll be at full potential. Was it wrong for me to think like this? Perhaps but who was to know.

I had seen guards walking by, chatting women talking amongst themselves, some with children or ready to give birth to their own, the merchants calling out to any and all that would listen, and of course, you had the beggars going to anyone with money, asking for just a few to feed them and their families. Standing, I stretched my arms high in the air, not wanting to wait for Altair anymore. I can find the bureau out on my own, that much was certain, I didn't need his help. As I walked on deeper into the poor district of Damascus, the layout of the city was slowly coming back to me. Due to having the PC version, I could cut the city entrances of all the cities, missing the long way between each one and the threats of the Kingdom. I was sort of happy about that but now that I'm here, I kind of wished I knew the cities better.

I snorted as I could imagine walking up to someone and asking where the bureau was. That'd be a riot. Altair wouldn't be able to find me if I keep moving but at this point in time, I honestly don't care, I want to find the bureau all by myself without him pointing out the ladder. In the shadows of one building, I spotted a familiar looking informant, his eyes watching the crowds carefully before another drew close. They had to have been trading information, their eyes shifting from side to side, being careful to not draw attention to themselves. One caught me looking, his eyes narrowed but as I subtly nodded his way, I turned my head away, keeping my pace up. Act as normal as possible, act as normal as possible, act as normal as possible. Any moment now, I was expecting a hidden blade pressed against me, maybe even dragged back behind an alley with a blade to my throat. However, as tense as I am about it, nothing happens.

That is, until a hand grabbed my arm.

Gasping, I spun around to face my attacker, only to see familiar golden eyes. "You jackass, you scared the living daylights out of me!" I grit out, pulling out of his grip. I saw humor in his eyes before they hid under his hood showing the stone stoic face as always. "I take it things went well."

His head tilted just a bit, almost as if he answered in a very nonchalant way. "The information was of little use. Abul Nuqoud is known to have parties, festivals for his own purposes."

And he'd have one soon, I knew that for a fact and that a certain assassin would attend it. "Since you know something to start off with, you should go to the rafik to get more information so you can kill him," I said, trying to speed things along. I never liked Abul Nuqoud in the game, he was a victim of bullying his whole life and got back at those who tormented and teased him by poisoning. The guy should have just grown himself a back bone and dealt with it like every other person on the planet. Altair said nothing as he led the way to the bureau, passing by jar carriers, beggars, brutes, guards, everyone really before climbing up a wall, reaching his hand down to pull me up as well. I'll give credit to Altair; the man is a lot stronger than he looks.

Following behind the assassin wasn't difficult; it was avoiding falling down and the occasional guard that got me. Though, the few times I stumbled, alright, more than a few, I either caught myself quickly or Altair lent me a steady hand to grip onto. Many times, I was holding onto his left hand, always feeling the missing finger and wondering what happened exactly. When the familiar crest of the assassins came into view, I let Altair have his hand back; the wondering of the missing finger would probably stay a mystery. Already I could hear the humming coming from within the bureau, the strong smells of paints, wet clay, and mud coming from the grate. Jumping down, I felt my empty womb flip, making me feel nauseous. This wasn't a top priority though as Altair landed gracefully next to me, the prick.

The assassin entered the bureau, his head held high, almost as if he knew he'd get respect from the rafik. I began to wonder, if the rafik in Acre knew about me, did this one as well? Staying in the doorway, I watched as the assassin drew near the counter, causing the rafik to look up. Though, the dark haired man peered over at the white donned man before looking my way, a bright smile on his face as dark eyes twinkled. He was up to mischief, no doubt about that. "Altair, my friend, welcome, welcome. And to the young lady as well, welcome." I smiled at him, feeling my spirits lift instantly. "Who's life have you come to collect today?" he asked the assassin, as if in true interest.

"His name is Abul Nuqoud. What can you tell me about him?" Altair asked, watching the rafik grin before returning to the pottery in front of him.

The pot was pretty, the details were stunning. "Oh, the merchant king of Damascus, richest man in the city; quite exciting, quite dangerous," he said, a taunting smile on his face as he looked up at Altair. "I envy you, Altair." Altair's hood rose just a small bit from pride. I, of course, was trying to hold back a smile. "Well, not the bit where you were beaten and stripped of your rank, but I envy everything else. Oh, except for the terrible things the other assassins say about you. But yes, aside from the failure and the hatred, yes, aside from those things, I envy you very much!" I couldn't help it, I let out a laugh. The rafik turned to me and winked; the playful attitude very high in the bureau.

The hood fell just a bit, as did Altair's shoulders but I saw a very small smirk on his face. "If you're finished," he said, humor in his voice. "I do not care what the others think or say, I'm here to do a job." Ah, there was the familiar tone. Back to business. "So I ask again, what can you tell me of the merchant king?"

This made the other man's head pop up from his work. "Only that he must be a bad man if Al Mualim has sent you to see him," the rafik replied, the smile not faded as he returned to the pottery. "He keeps to his own kind, wrapped in the finery of the city's noble district. A busy man, always up to something. I'm sure that if you've spent time amongst his type, you'll learn all you need to know about him."

Altair nodded, his hood moving one way, as if looking at where the rich district was before moving back to look at the busy rafik. "And where would you have me begin my search?"

The rafik paused in his actions, chewed on his lower lip as his eyebrows furrowed in thought before looking up at the assassin. "If I were you, I'd start with the Omayyad Mosque and Souk Sarouja, both of which are west of here. Further to the north-west is Saladin's citadel; it's a popular meeting spot and has proved a reliable source of loose tongues in the past. Yes, these three places should serve your needs."

The assassin bowed his head. "My thanks for your guidance, rafik. I'll return when I've gathered the necessary information."

The rafik waved an arm, the other pulling out a tome before setting it down. "I have confidence that you will."

Stifling my giggles, I moved out of Altair's way as he was leaving the bureau. He didn't say one word to me, his mission starting officially and I was going to follow what I had said in Masyaf. It was a bit surprising to me that he didn't turn to help me up but perhaps the rafik had greeted me with kindness, he didn't need to pull me from the bureau. I for one was thankful for that.

A throat cleared and I peered into the bureau, seeing that the rafik was watching me with playful eyes. He was like a puppy, I decided quickly, eager to make new friends. "You're the one Al Mualim has written about," he said, his eyes bright with interest and fascination. "A brother has marked you as ally and now you travel with Altair."

Flushing with embarrassment, I ducked my head low and nodded. "I am." I really didn't know what to say to the man; he was so energetic, it was, in itself, intimidating. "I hope Al Mualim hasn't been spreading rumors about me."

The rafik surprised me, pulling out a note from under the counter, unfurling it carefully as his eyes scanned the contents. "'Beautiful young woman traveling with Altair, fair in skin, good temperament, respectful,' nope, not a single bad thing in here," he said, looking back at me with a broad smile.

He was flattering me; I knew that right off the bat. "Well, I'll be sure to thank him for the kind words when I return to Masyaf." The twinkle in his eye made me smile even more, I couldn't help it, I felt happy around him. "I'm called Elisheba."

"Kalil," he replied, returning back to the pottery in front of him. "It is quite fascinating that someone would travel with Altair so willingly, especially a woman. Not that there's anything wrong with you traveling with him, it is odd to see it happen," he said after looking up at me, a little worried as if he had hurt my feelings.

I had giggled, waving my hands to reassure him before lowering my shawl, tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ears. "No, you're right, it is strange." Giving some thought, I sat on what looked like a giant marshmallow as a cushion. "I'm pretty sure he's not that well known amongst the female sex."

He laughed, setting aside the pottery. "No, even as a young boy, he wasn't that popular. His arrogance would get the better of him, even amongst friends," Kalil said, as if remembering the old days. "There were some who believe that Altair wouldn't last his first mission but I had faith in him."

Pulling my knees close, I watched the rafik intently. "You knew Altair as a child?"

He smiled, the twinkle coming back in his eye as I could see him remembering the years. "Yes, I was there when he first became a fledgling then to be a favorite student amongst the teachers then to be Al Mualim's prize pupil. He and Malik were always fighting to be the favorite and though Malik was looking out for his little brother, Kadar, he tried his hardest as well." Imagining a kid Malik wasn't that difficult but thinking of Altair as a kid, it was almost too much for me.

"Those two met by accident, bumping into each other quite literately. They had been running around the village, running errands back and forth from one advisor to the other and when neither were paying attention to where they were heading, Malik stepped out, kicking Altair and the two tumbled and fell to the ground. The ruckus they caused from just shouting was enough to draw attention but fists flew. I remember pulling Altair away, the strength in him fueled by anger, a danger in the field if not given proper training." He smiled warmly, a proud look in his eyes. "The two, after separating, had given the other a good long look before laughing. I had never seen the two of them laugh so hard. They were instant friends after that, joined by the hip, they were. You couldn't find one without the other."

"But Altair was sent away for a long mission and when he returned, he was a changed man, as if a terrible heartache had happened." Adha, he lost his first love. "He was cold and heartless upon his return. I didn't have much of a chance to speak to him; I was appointed rafik after the previous bureau leader had died due to illness. I had heard of the accident under the city of Jerusalem, the loss of Malik's brother, and of course, the failure that Altair had become, causing his demotion back to novice. It was…hard to hear about it all."

Biting my lower lip, I looked over to the many pots that lined the shelves of the bureau, my mind's eye replacing them with scrolls and books. "Do you still communicate with Malik in Jerusalem?"

The rafik looked up at me before nodding. "He and I exchange a pigeon whenever we find the time but with the Anglos attacking, invading, it's hard to properly communicate. This English king, his forces haven't given up and Saladin's army is as constant as those that are sent over the seas." He took a small breath before continuing. "There has been talk that if their king takes Jaffa, that Jerusalem will be next." I bit my tongue to tell him that it's true, that these worries will be fact and that the stories will spread near and far of the crusaders, whether it'd be true or false, that the stories would continue on for generations.

For a moment, there was a heavy silence, constant and unwavering, terrifying and feared. But as the rafik gained his bearing once again, he cleared his throat. "Where are my manners? They seem to have left with Altair. You must be hungry."

At the sound of food, my stomach roared, reminding me that all I had to eat so far was fruit. My body was going to need protein and lots of iron and I was hoping he'd happen to have jerky on him or at least some dried meats, it wouldn't really matter what kind they were, as long as they weren't expired. My mini prayers were answered when the rafik returned from the back room, dried meat and fresh fruit sitting in a small basket. I had to admit, I squealed a little when presented with the foods. Happily digging in, I was beginning to wonder if perhaps this is what I'll only eat if I continue to travel with Altair and yet, at the same time, what I would possibly eat if I were to only stay in one city.

This made my heart hurt. I was missing home again, missing the variety of foods, the familiarity of everything, missing everyone and everything again. I'm not from here, I'm an outsider, I've got to find a way home; I kept that running through my head like a chant. "Do you have anything to drink?" I asked, trying to act as if nothing was bothering me.

He smiled warmly before passing me a finely detailed cup, one of his own making I presume, before grabbing a jug, pouring red liquid in. "Christian wine," he said before pouring himself a cup. "It's not much and though it goes against the faith here, I always make sure to have some on hand."

Taking cautious sips of the drink, I watched him carefully. "Why is that? The Islamic faith says that Allah forbids it."

"True as this may be, it does the body good. Medicine for the physical and invisible wounds, of the body and soul." I snorted before finishing off the cup. It wasn't uncommon to hear about it being medicine for the soul, even that was common where at home.

The sun moved across the sky long enough to remind me that there was still a Templar out there, that the assassin I was currently traveling with was finding information on him and that if he had his way, I'd be confined to the bureau until his return with a crimson feather. "Rafik, can I explore the city?" I asked randomly. The pottery was beautiful, the woodwork of the counter and the chess set and shelves were great to look at too, however, I was feeling restless.

"I see no problem in this, as long as you are careful," he said after giving it some thought. "There are a lot of bad men out there," Kalil warned.

I bade him thanks and was let out the back. I didn't know that the bureaus had back doors but after giving logic to the thought, I would have to agree that it is used for the wounded as a quick way to get in and out. Getting my bearings, I looked behind me to see the door of the bureau close. I was on my own and ready to explore the city.

-.-.-

I don't like calling the rafik by their title so I've come up with a name for the Damascus rafik, gives him personality, even though he has his own, and it's also a lot easier to distinguish later on in the fic.

Though wine isn't allowed my Islamic standards, though I'm unsure by a medicinal point of view, the assassins were supposedly atheists and in the game, Abul Nuqoud did have wine at his party.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.

A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews, they make me happy and they've given me something to think about and decide on something. But this won't be for a while though. ALSO, since I missed last weekend's update, this weekend, you get two chapters. ENJOY!

Finding the rich district wasn't as hard as I thought that it was. The walls of the buildings were brightly colored with fresh paints, the heavily clothed men fat and adorned with some sort of shiny cloth or jewels and even the beggars seemed to be absent. Of course, that wouldn't make sense to me; this is the rich district so perhaps it would be more likely to find those begging for coin in the more rich districts but instead, there was an absence of them. However, where there was the absence, there was an abundance of guards ready to pounce on any who might seem to be out of place or even think about committing a crime. I let out a soft sigh, thinking about the assassin; the troublemaker.

I felt very out of place here in the district, more-so than I was at Masyaf. I suppose that I have a place in Masyaf, in the gardens with the other girls rather than outside the great fortress. "Come; take a look at my wares. You'll not find a better deal, I promise you that!" One of the many merchants cried out, his stall already having many looking over the merchandise. I had to admit, part of me was curious as to what he was selling but another part of me was telling me to continue, move along, don't stop. I decided to listen to this second voice, tearing my eyes away to search around the district. I did pause once, trying to figure out why I was in the rich district instead of anywhere else but I supposed curiosity got the best of me and so there I was. I had passed by a town crier, hearing how Richard was a bad man and how Saladin was so great. I rolled my eyes, not really taking a side. I was in Saladin's land, I'm respectful and didn't make trouble but according to those that saw me, I was Anglo so I was one of Richard's citizens so I had to be mindful of him as well. Confusing, isn't it?

I bit my lower lip, trying to follow along with the traffic, trying to keep sights of where I was and to where I was going. I had wanted to see the mosque of Saladin but I also wanted to stay as far away from where I knew the bloodbath would be. If I could avoid that place all together, I knew that I'd be fine and wouldn't mess up with the timeline at all. I couldn't have been more relieved to know that and yet, the sinking feeling in my gut was back, like I had been punched in the stomach and watched a horrifying accident at once. Not a good feeling, not at all. What was causing this though? It wasn't something I was doing, was it? Was my body acting up again? I didn't think so…

The traffic moved into the large marketplace, the souk if I remember correctly. I was thankful I didn't have any valuables on me or I would have been sure that I would have been pick-pocketed in no time flat. The souk wasn't a safe place to be since there were little to no guards, a lot of beggars and thugs every which way and maybe just once, an assassin by the name of Altair though I'm sure his brothers have made their appearance here before. Would not surprise me.

Going into the heart of the souk, I had heard the sounds of merchants trying to sell their goods, claiming they were of little price or that their wares were the best around. Ignoring them all, I went to sit on a box near one merchant as he was rolling up some fabric before putting it in the back. I had to admit, the souk was busier than it was in the game. People were stopping by several stands, many of them holding goods of their own, probably purchases, the noise of the souk reminding me of home, of the mall, of my own job. I was beginning to miss home again and this wasn't really helping too much with my home sickness. Drawing a leg close to my chest, I held it tightly, setting my chin on my knee, closing my eyes as I tried not to imagine my house, my family and friends.

"Be careful, sister. Showing our mark isn't safe," I heard from a whisper. "Hide it before our enemies were to see it." Lifting my head up, I saw a man in white and gray standing near me, his eyes forward with his arms crossed, his hood up. Another assassin, perhaps an informant? "Do something with it."

I quickly lowered my leg, fixing my dress to hide my skin again but when I looked back up to the man, he was gone, like a ghost. It was a bit odd and strange but at the same time, the coolest thing ever. Getting down from the box, I looked around, seeing if anyone noticed my mark. Probably not, it's so small that one would have to be close to me to see it. Then again, I was flashing around my bare ankle so anyone could have seen it, drawn close, saw what mark it was and called the guards. I'm hoping that it didn't happen. I tried to hide in the crowd, making sure that my shawl was covering my head, keeping my eyes lowered so no one could see the strange color.

Right before I hit an exit of the souk, someone put their hand on my shoulder, pushing me back some. "Hold there." I stiffened watching as a pair of boots came into my line of sight. I blinked and looked up at the man, wondering why I was stopped but as I gasped, my eyes registered that standing before me was a guard. "I saw what you did," he said in a menacing tone. Taking a step back, I saw another join the first, both of them with a wicked gleam in their eye.

Turning, I had to take a double take because there were now two behind me as well. "You dare steal in my presence? That'll cost you your life!" Oh come on! You can not seriously tell me that I'm about to be man handled by a bunch of guards like the civilians from the game! They were all sharing a similar grin; their eyes on me.

"I took nothing," I said, trying to calm myself. Fight or flight instincts were starting to kick in; what I wouldn't have given from some twenty-first weaponry. A stun gun, pepper-spray, anything! Thinking on where I stood, I knew that if I were to stay harassed by them, I'd probably never seek salvation unless saved or until the guards gave up on me. I bit my lower lip in thought, seeing a guard's eyes open wider at that. No, these men were bullies, I could not afford to stay with them.

Without second though, I bolted, trying to get away as fast as I could. I knew that they would be faster than me, I knew that my lungs would cause me to stagger, stumble, fall, and eventually pass out but with the look in their eyes, I knew I didn't have a choice. My lack of knowing the city would catch up to me soon if I didn't keep running. If I could lose sight of them, I might be able to hide in a crowd, in a haystack or something. I just had to lose their line of sight on me then I could look for a place to hide. Why was it that I was being chased by guards no matter what? I had passed so many people, so many buildings, I didn't really know where I was going, just that I had to get away. Already, my lungs were stealing oxygen from my brain, my vision blurring and fading into the familiar darkness. I'd be blind soon and I could still hear them behind me.

My shawl was loose and gone, I couldn't feel the weight of it anymore around me and with the wind whistling in my ears, I knew that more of my hair had fallen out of the tight braid. "Stop, you thief!" Darkness spotted my vision and yet all I could think of was to keep running. Don't stop running, don't ever stop.

I don't know how far I got, just the sounds were fading and my legs, chest and throat burned before my vision vanished completely. My breath, now horribly shallow, sounding as if I were gasping, reached my ears. My legs disappeared beneath me and I fell.

-.-.-

"She has finally stopped making that noise."

"Shh, she is now resting. The demons must have left her."

"Her coloring is returning."

Ugh. My eyes opened with much difficulty, everything looking like blurry colors. I closed them tightly before opening them once again, trying to see. I felt something cold on my forehead, dripping down into my ears as another was on my chest, making me shiver. Someone was holding one of my hands, rubbing my fingernails; another was running cold liquid over the other arm. My eyes were starting to focus as I could see large circular candle holders hanging from a tan ceiling, the warm light dancing around in the shadows.

"There is something here, I can't get it off." I heard before a cold wet cloth began to scrub at my ankle.

I twitched my fingers, hearing a few gasps as my vision finally cleared. My body was still too heavy to move but I could look around. "Where am I?" I croaked out. Oh geez, I sound like I have a frog in my throat. A beautiful woman wearing a veil picked my head up gently as a shallow bowl was set on my lips. Taking slow swallows, I felt relief hit my belly, some of my strength returning. When I had my fill, I looked at the one holding me up, her wild waves of hair really close to my face as I could smell the oils on her skin, the perfumes in her hair. "Where am I?" I repeated.

The woman's eyes studied me before helping me sit up. The cold cloth on my forehead and chest gave way, showing I was nude in front of a room full of women. Great. "You are in our care. We are the concubines of the Merchant King." My head snapped as I looked at her. "Are you feeling better?"

Taking a deep breath, I felt my lungs begin to burn, as if they had been on fire. "Yeah, I'm alright," I muttered, a hand to my bare chest to feel my heart. It wasn't pounding so I should be alright to move some. "Why am I…naked?" They even took away my underwear. "Where are my clothes?" I asked, pulling my legs to sit as if I were a mermaid, my arms covering my chest.

One of the women, her baggy pants almost sheer, stood and motioned to a fire. "You're bleeding cloth was burnt to rid yourself of pains, your dress now in the care of those on the streets." They burnt my undies and got rid of my clothes…WHAT? I put a hand to my neck, not feeling the familiar chain. "Oh yes, that," she said, noticing my actions before waving a hand to a woman dressed like a belly dancer. "As women, we too can understand the need to take such measures."

I snatched the necklace out of the woman's hand and put it on, stopping when an unfamiliar scent caught my attention. Once the chain was securely in place, I lifted my arm to my nose, sniffing tentatively. "And this?"

"You were bathed so that the demons inside of you would leave. Your breathing was quite shallow and yet you managed to fight them off." Demons? I tilted my head before catching on. They meant my asthmas.

"How long was I…fighting these 'demons'?" I asked slowly.

The woman motioned to the window. The outside light showed that it was nearing dusk. "You were brought to us perhaps just before the imam's third prayer."

That told me nothing except that she was a child of Islam. Thinking back on it, Altair and I reached Damascus around noon, I had stayed in the bureau perhaps an hour so I had nearly my whole afternoon passed out! I shook my head against it. "And what will be done with me now?"

"Now? You must perform the duties you have practiced. You ran here, according to the men, giving yourself up to the Merchant King. You had passed out once you reached the area, so the men have said." She crossed her arms under her large breasts, pushing them up even more. "Though you are much too pale to be from the city. A trade perhaps?" I heard her mutter.

They thought I was a courtesan, a concubine? Oh but no! I'm not some man's little play thing. "And to wear?" I asked, keeping my cool. The woman clapped her hands and the surrounding women stood, each one going to a different table to pull out rich fabric, holding them out as if for me to inspect. "And if I should bleed through them?"

This is where she smiled. "My family came from across the waters long ago. The women taught us this." She held up a white…fuzzy stick? "This will catch the blood but like your rags, you must change it often." Wait, wait, was she really holding up a medieval tampon? "Here, to help you with your bleedings." Handing me the tampon, it felt like unwoven wool. I had hoped it was washed. "Do you need help?"

A felt my face heat up. "I think I can mange. Is there…um…a place where I can do this?" I heard many of the women giggle as I was pointed to a large blanket in a corner.

I looked at the woman, the mother of the room, I guess, and gave her a funny look. "It is strictly for clothes, there is another place we go to for that." She pointed to a door leading out, it on the other side of the room from another door. "If you need to relieve youself-"

"Yes, thank you!" I said quickly, grabbing a long dark blue shawl, a familiar small rag before running to the "bathroom" area. Looking down at the tampon in my hand, my mind began to wonder how in the world I can use this. Taking a deep breath, I held it as if I would a normal one and began. I have to say, it was the nastiest thing I have ever done in my life. I don't like my periods, I never have, and that was just sick! I'd rather deal with the rags the women in Masyaf gave me than an ancient tampon. I mean, it was awkward, a bit painful and after several rolls of my hips to work my inner muscle, it finally settled in place as I wiped away any blood. I was going to need a scrubbing or a bath or something; this was gross.

Wait, how am I going to take it out? I cringed at the thought, my stomach wanting to purge itself but after bracing myself against a wall and taking several deep breaths, I managed to let that feeling wash away.

I wrapped the blood fabric around myself as I left the room to go back to the other concubines, really taking in the room's decoration. There were a lot of cushions around the area, several mirrors lining the walls while there were carved tables covered in yards of fabric to cover them up, all the surfaces either covered in jeweled combs, bushes, hand held mirrors, and loads of jewelry, or with flowers and other decorative items. There weren't many women in the room, only six, each one wearing a different color. The main woman was wearing a dark green, the jewels on her arms and feet heavy with what looked like emeralds while henna danced around her belly and back that wasn't covered with fabric. Her hair wasn't pinned back but instead flowed freely around her face.

Another wearing a deep red was quickly tying a see through scarf around her waist, her navel adorned by shiny paints into a sun. Above her veil, a small golden sun was painted on her cheek bone, temple bells on her ankle that jangled every time she took a step. Her hair was pulled back with jeweled combs, bells dangling from them as well. Every woman was dressed in a similar fashion, belly dancer like clothes with some jewelry hanging on their arms and ankles, henna and painted symbols along their flesh, each one as seductive as her sister. These nimble creatures turned my way and I could see a familiar glint in their eye. Oh no, I was to be their doll.

Many arms grabbed my own before sitting me down, ripping the fabric from my body before I was pulled into baggy pants, a piece of fabric wrapping around my chest, covering my breasts before tying around my neck, Already, cold wet paint was applied to my skin as a woman stood me up, sitting in front of me to paint around my navel, another grabbing my hand to paint along my fingers and the back of my hand, while I felt rings fitted on my fingers, a bracelet on my wrist and an arm cuff above bicep but under my deltoid, the cold metal sending goose-bumps along my arm.

Someone behind me clicked her tongue against her teeth, unbinding my hair. All the while, the woman were talking, dressing me, painting me, molding me to be like them. Having my eyelids rubbed on with kohl, I felt my nose twitch from the excess powder before a thin veil covered my lower face, showing my eyes above the fabric.

This process took some time and after the last piece was pinned or painted or set or something, I don't know, the women backed up, nodding their approval before finishing their own adjustments to themselves. I was wearing the deep blue, silver bands covering my arm as rings covered all my fingers. Taking a step, I felt the fabric of the shoes they had given me, the material soft and soothing on my feet but the tinkling off bells told me I had temple bells as well. Going to one of the many mirrors, I didn't recognize the woman staring back at me. The fabric covering me still showed off more skin than that of what I was used to but with the painted henna on me, it looked as though I fit in. Silver swirls flowed gently from my navel, lace like henna in a dark orange covered up to my elbows while the make-up on me made me not recognize the woman staring back at me. She was gorgeous, her wavy hair pinned back with silver combs so that the waves fell gently, the veil adding mystery to the dark blue-green eyes.

The woman in the mirror was stunning…that woman in the mirror was me. Feeling self conscious, I looked down on myself, seeing that what was reflected back to me was real. I felt my self-confident boost dramatically due to just this one time of dressing up, it was amazing.

"Come," I heard behind me. Turning, I saw a woman in bright colors, seeming as if she was bathed in a rainbow as a delicately chiseled hand motioned to the door with the other girls. I nodded and followed along, the bells dancing on my ankle as I joined the crowd. The door was suddenly flung open and my eyes with it. Abul Nuqoud was standing in the door way.

-.-.-

I did more research on this chapter even though it doesn't seem like much. My thanks to SporkedGamer. Without her, I would have been stuck on a particular part.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that came from UbiSoft.

A/N: Thanks for your reviews!

My stomach rolled at the sight of the familiar Templar. My stomach rolled heavily as I forced myself to compose a straight face. Biting my tongue, I could see every feature on his face, every pox mark, acne scar, even a wart forming on his chin. He wasn't yet wearing his turban but I could see the fine hairs on his bald head, light bouncing off. He grinned menacingly, stained crooked teeth in his mouth. "I'm so pleased my flowers are helping me with my party," he said, his double chin wiggling. He was covered in his clothes of rich fabrics and furs, even down to his pointy yellow shoes that he'd wear to the party though the over coat not covering the gorge one would call a stomach. His rings weren't on his person, they were missing like the turban but I had a feeling that they too would be on shortly before he makes his appearance on his balcony. "It warms my heart that you are willing to participate."

I could feel the anticipation coming from the girls as his small piggy eyes scanned our faces. "I am sure you will all make my guests very happy." He waved an arm along and the gaggle began to move slowly, each other raising and kissing his hand before skittering off to be let loose to the courtyard. I felt revolted that I was last and that I had to touch the man. Lifting his hand, I merely raised it before turning to go but the beefy hand closed over my own. "You must be the one found today. How quickly you recovered," I heard him say in his deep voice as he leaned close. Oh God, his breath reeked. "I must say that I am impressed by this but am disappointed that you don't kiss the hand of your king."

My stomach dropped as I felt myself ready to be sick. Play the fool, try to get away. "I did not realize that it was my duty to kiss your hand, milord. Please, forgive me for I have not done so before," I said, trying to keep my voice as innocent as I could while a smile was plastered on my face. "I apologize." I curtsied and turned to leave again but his hand kept firm. "Milord, please, I must go with the other girls."

"And yet, I have yet to receive my kiss. Shall I punish you by denying you, my newest concubine, the rights of my grand estate, of my party and simply lock you away? No, I think not. Instead, I demand that you not kiss my hand, but on my lips instead." I saw lust cover his beady little eyes. "Or shall I take you to my bed? There is still some time before the party begins."

My blood ran cold. I wanted to scream and shout, to try to get away, to try and save myself in whatever way possible. "Milord, if I were to show up later than the other girls, they would think you a fool for having me in your presence," I said as gently as I could, though I saw rage in his eyes. "I do not wish to harm your reputation by appearing late. If I were to do so, I'd take my life so that you would be spared the humiliation of talk." Keep playing the fool, don't let him suspect anything. I saw his jaw tense. "But please, if you would, take me to your bed after the party. I wish to please my king in whatever form I can," I said with a small curtsy.

I could see him contemplating on it before releasing me, his hand giving me bruises that the henna helped hide. "Go then, but remember your promise to me." I nodded, quickly giving chase to the girls, my ears trying to catch onto bells, preferably to the ones not on my ankles.

However, my stomach rolled and I felt myself begin to gag by the time I had reached stairs and gone down them. I couldn't put a hand to my belly in fear that the paint was still wet but at the same time, I tried to settle it nonetheless. "Are you sick?" A rich feminine voice called to me. I nodded without opening my eyes. I felt like if I opened them, I would throw up. "Here, eat this." Something hard was pressed against my lips that when I did open my mouth, it was shoved in quickly. It was hard, whatever it was and had a sharp flavor, almost bitter. Ginger? I knew it settled the stomach quickly, I just had to rest in the shadows of the shade until then.

Opening my eyes, I looked around, seeing that I was totally alone. No, there was someone else here. Swallowing the ginger in my mouth, and sticking my tongue out to cool the burn, I kept looking around as I walked slowly to where I saw the other girls gathering in front of a door, it opened just a crack. Each one seemed to be having jitters, nerves or something in their systems that excited the air, their anticipation spreading to me as I began to wonder if I would see Altair at the party. Would he recognize me? Part of me hoped not but my inner fangirl fought this off. He would know me, he had the Eagle Vision. If he were to use it at the party, would he see me? "The first few guests are arriving," one of the girls near the door said, sending the others in giggles.

Rolling my eyes, I leaned close to one. "What are we to do when we are out there?" I asked, hoping I sounded anxious.

"Entice them. Entertain them in whatever form would best please them in hopes that we will be pleased in return by our king," she said, her eyes shining brightly. "This is the first time any of us have helped out with his parties, he usually sends other girls, or so the men say. I'm thankful he has chosen us to dance for the guests."

My eyes went wide as I thought about what she had said. Does that mean that he kills at every party he throws? But that didn't make sense. Someone would have realized that there were… no. He despises the poor, the homeless, the sick. He would invite those without home, without people, to his parties and after pretending to be a generous host, he'd kill them all. No… The girls were as much as victims as those poor innocents that are lead to the slaughter by this man. No, not a man, a monster.

I curled my hands into fists watching as the door opened and the girls spill out to mingle in the crowd. I followed in hopes to find the familiar hood, to lead him to a path I've taken many times in the game without alerting the fat Templar. Altair, where are you?

The smells of heavy oils and perfumes filled my nose with their strong odors but I pushed my way through, making myself not touch a single soul, listening to men talking loudly, joking amongst their friends, neighbors, anyone they could take to, wine in their goblets, scented on their breaths. My heart went to the girls, hoping that in some way, they were smart enough to stay away from the wine, hide in the shadows but I knew that it was a high chance that they would do all they could to please their master. Someone had grabbed my arm, pulling me back into a crowd. "What a pretty little flower. Dance, flower, amuse me." My eyes looked around the crowd as I raised my arms, my many bracelets falling down as I stood on my toes, letting my hips sway in a seductive matter.

My arms and hips fell into a rhythm that I wasn't really paying attention to, I was too busy scanning the crowd of people for a white hood. Come on, Altair, don't be late. Dancing a few steps, I rested my arms by lowering them to hold my balance in front of me as I spun slowly, still trying to find him. The main gate was still open so there shouldn't be any reason to why he isn't here yet. I turned my attention on the ones I was dancing for, seeing the lust in their eyes as they kept their eyes on me, well, rather to my hips. I had to get away from them to properly find my companion. Taking a deep breath, I put a hand to my belly, as if a stitch hit, doubling over in fake pain. "Please, forgive me, I have not danced in for some time, I am afraid my body is out of practice." I could see that they were disappointed, some with anger in their eyes, clearly on their face, though one offered me his drink, his eyebrows furrowing together in concern.

"Drink, perhaps it will recover your strength."

I smiled and shook my head. "I thank you, but my lord has given that drink to you, I must find my own. If you would excuse me," I replied as gently as I could before walking away. Staying near the gate, I peered up at the fountain. It was of a woman, dressed as if she were to model one of the many Roman statues, her half naked form holding a jar above her as water came from the jar, like the constellation Aquarius. I knew that in sometime, what comes from the jar would not be clear water, but a deep red wine, laced with poison and these poor souls would drink from it as if it were to give them life energy.

Hearing giggles, I peered over to a corner of the party to see one of the girls, her arms around a man as his head was bent, her own thrown back in euphoria, a leg around his hips. A flutter in my womb reminded me that one day I would be in the throes of passion like the two temporary lovers but as long as I was in this game, that wouldn't be anytime soon. "What's wrong with you?" I heard someone hiss. "You are to be entertaining the Merchant King's guests!" It was one of the girls, her face red, veil missing and hair mussed. It was no doubt that she was entertaining a guest in a similar fashion as her sister in the corner.

"I am greeting those that walk in," I lied, trying to keep my tone as light as I could.

Her eyes studied my face to see if I was lying but a squeal from her lips distracted her as she turned around, her mouth suddenly busy with a random man's. I clicked my tongue and turned to the gate once again. Had I not seen him on a daily basis, I would have never noticed but out of the corner of my eyes, Altair slipped into a heavy crowd. "Altair," I breathed out, trying to make my way to him.

Pushing my way through was no problem but I also knew it wouldn't be long until Abul Nuqoud would come out onto his balcony above the courtyard and give his speech onto the unsuspecting fools beneath him. Reaching my arm out, I touched Altair's arm, only to have my wrist grabbed onto tightly. "Do not touch me, woman," I heard him growl out as he shoved me away. Gritting my teeth, I rubbed my now bruises wrist and tried again. This time, he turned to look at me. "I told… Elisheba?" His eyes were wide as they traveled down my body. Well, he is a man after all.

Slightly annoyed by his shock and look over, I rolled my eyes. "There isn't much time. Come on, I can show you a path to kill Abul-"

My sentence was interrupted by the many calls and cheers of the crowd around me. I wrapped an arm around the assassin's, my other hand to my heart as I was frozen in place. Already, the portly man had waddled his way out, a goblet in his hand as he looked down all of us below. "Welcome, welcome. Thank you all for joining me this evening," he cried out, the crowd noise starting to die down. "Please, eat, drink, enjoy all the pleasures I have to offer," he said, emphasizing on his words heavily. Already the crowds were agreeing with the man, drinking more of their drinks, the poisoned wine. "Take your time, I will wait." The crowd gave out a sound, as if they were disappointed by something. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the fountain begin to pout out red wine. Don't drink it, it's poisoned. Two men nudged each other, their cups and goblets dipping in to catch the tainting drink falling.

"I trust everything is to your," he paused, looking around the courtyard before spotting me, his fake smile turning into a vile grin, "satisfaction." The men called out, many thanking the merchant king for the event. "Good, good! It pleases me to see you all so happy!" he exclaimed, his arms in the air, as if sharing in on the good mood. Already, the mood soured as the grin faded. "But these are dark days, my friends, and we must enjoy this bounty while we still can." I caught the low tone in his voice as his eyes watched the crowd's reaction carefully. "War threatens to consume us all. Saladin bravely fights for what he believes in and you are always there to support him without question."

"Praise be Saladin!"

Abul Nuqoud's eyes narrowed. "It is your generosity that allows his campaign to continue, so, I propose a toast then!" He raised his goblet and around me, many others had raised theirs as well, hanging onto the man's every word. "To you, my dear friends, who have brought us where we are today! May you be given everything you deserve for it." He quickly drank the contents in his goblet before setting it on the edge of the balcony. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw many follow his example, some going back for more while others politely sipped their drinks, trying to stay focused on the party itself.

Those that had finished early gave out their cries of approval, earning beams from the lord above them. "Such kindness, I didn't think it in you; you who have been so quick to judge me so cruelly." His tone had gone from a cheerful one to that of a thundering god, sending a fearful chill through me while the crowd shouted up their denials of such claims. Abul Nuqoud waved a hand in the direction of a small gathering of people to his right, taking a step to them. "Oh, do not feign ignorance, do you take me for a fool?" he bellowed out in anger. "That I have not heard the words you whisper behind my back?" More cries of denial, even from his concubines. "Well, I have and I feel that I will never forget!"

He's nothing but a bully who was terrorized until he rose into power, it was obvious and through his words, he was sending fear into those below, myself included. I clung to Altair's arm even more now. The sly smile once again appeared on the merchant king's face as he paced on his balcony. "But this is not why I've called you here tonight, no. I wish to speak more of this war and your part in it," he said, pointing out to the crowd. The crowd gave a confused noise, many talking amongst themselves to try and figure out what was wrong with their king. "You give up your coin quick as can be, knowing all too well it implies the deaths of thousands! You don't even know why we fight. 'The sanctity of the Holy Land,' you say or the 'evil England nation of our enemies,' but these are lies you tell yourselves," he said, as if making a point. Chuckling, that big belly of his jiggled as he set a hand on it before looking back down on us. "No. All this suffering is borne of fear and hate. It bothers you that they are different just as it bothers you that I am different."

He set his hands on the balcony, glaring down at us while the crowds fought against the words, many of them strong enough to say that they were false while others merely cowered under the harsh look. The merchant king picked up his goblet again, it refilled sometime in his speech, and chugged it once again before it slammed down on the stone, making a hollow noise. "Compassion. Mercy. Tolerance. These words mean nothing to any of you, mean nothing to those infidel invaders who ravage our land in search of gold and glory." I felt Altair's arm tense beneath my touch. "And so I say ENOUGH!" The sudden roar startled me as I took a step back, trying to hide myself from the angry man. "I've pledged myself to another cause, one that will bring about a new world, in which all may live side by side, in peace," he said, his words going low as he drew near an ebony guard.

The man turned his head to his master, the two sharing a look as Abul Nuqoud's hand rested on his guard's shoulder. I blinked in disbelief. I had seen it in the game but here in front of me, it was an act that was forbidden here. The two smiled gently to each other like close friends or perhaps more before Abul Nuqoud sighed and turned to the crowd, a false sorrow on his face. "A pity none of you will live to see." A man close to the fountain dropped his goblet, turning attention away from the portly man on the balcony before he collapsed to his knees, holding one arm to his stomach, another to his heart as he hack and wheezed. His back arched and from his mouth, blood dribbled. My eyes flew from the dying man to the second floor where the open way revealed guards with bows, taking aim at the crowd below. Many others began to fall victim to the poison as well as they fell to the ground, dying a slow and painful death.

Women screamed and large gaps formed where the dead were. I turned my attention to the man on the balcony as he looked at his armed guards. "Kill anyone who tries to escape!" he ordered then turned to watch the bloodbath begin.

The crowds began to run amok in their confined cage, noticing the trap too late as many went to the gate. Arrows flew to those first, killing those that tried to pry open the heavy doors. I released Altair's arm but grabbed his hand instead, pulling him along. "Come on, this way!" I shouted over the screams of terror. I had to shove through the panicked people to go past an ivy gazebo, watching as arrows flew in this direction as well. "Climb up there! Follow the rooftops! You'll catch him off guard, go!" I shouted to the assassin, releasing my hold on him before I turned to hide somewhere.

Amongst the chaos, I felt arrows fly to close to my face, seeing one pass before my eyes, the feathers brushing against the tip of my nose. Startled, I tripped over a corpse, covering my head, hoping that I should be spared from the crowd's trampling feet. My eyes watched in horror as I saw people in front of me die. One of the concubines, a small girl, she couldn't have been more than sixteen, caught an arrow in her neck as she fell to the ground, her hands around her neck as blood began to spill from her mouth, the wound pouring blood down her body. She didn't die instantly but would be one of the few who suffered a slow death. Tears welled in my eyes before I closed them, the image burned in my head.

The sounds of the arrows began to fade away as well as the screams of those frightened, only to be drowned out by the gurgles of the dying. Opening my eyes, I saw the concubine staring back at me, her eyes dull and lifeless as her fingers were curled forever on her neck, around the arrow. Looking to where the bowman were, I saw that they had their posts empty, instead, I heard the lamenting cries of a man on the balcony. Abul Nuqoud was dead.

Being as careful as I could, I crawled my way along the ground, feeling warm blood on my bare skin as I slowly inched my way along to the front gate. It was already open suggesting that not everyone was killed but I took no chances. When I finally made my way to the gate, I slowly stood, leaving the courtyard and into the world from the blood bath. They died, they all died. I walked on, away from the place of death like I was a zombie, too shocked and scared by what had happened. My feet told me where to go, my fingers twitching as I shook from head to toe. Those that saw me either backed away or ran screaming. Oh.

Heading into the alleys, I didn't encounter a single person but as I turned a corner, a pair of arms enveloped me, wrapping me in a cloth before hands moved to my shoulders. Looking up, I saw Altair staring down at me, concern in his eyes. I felt tears prick at my eyes again but I let them pour down as I set my forehead on his shoulder, feeling sobs run through me. His arms wrapped themselves around me once again.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.

A/N: Thank you all for your reviews! I got lot over night and I'm very thankful for it.

Through my sobs, I could hear bells ringing in the air and several guards shouting off about how there was an assassin in the area. If I were in a somewhat better mood, I would have rolled my eyes and remarked on how smart they were but instead, I was frozen in place, being held in the arms of a killer. I was sticky and the iron smell permeated through the air. The giant cloth…blanket-thing, Altair wrapped around me was sticking to my skin, the blood on my arms and belly cooling while strands were stuck to my face. The assassin moved him arms from around me, one hand lifting my head up to see my face but I couldn't meet his gaze. I didn't want to see anyone, I kept my eyes lowered. "Were you hurt?" I shook my head. "Did he do anything to you?" I shook my head again. "Did you drink any of the wine?" My head shook again. Why would I drink that poison?

I felt his hand relax on my shoulder before he moved to stand beside me, his hand on my lower back, leading me as the other rose fabric over my head like a hood. I crawled in blood when leaving the bloodbath so I was sure that I would need more than just a scrubbing. The bells around my ankle tinkled together joyfully, contradicting the morbid mood. We walked back into the light of the streets, this weird sound following us. I felt empty inside, dull, lifeless, as if I was a broken doll. I heard someone yelling for help as he held another man close, his hand on a gushing wound to stop it from flowing. Somewhere deep inside me, I knew that the person wouldn't live; another victim to a cruel man seeking out revenge by purging the population.

Chaos had erupted in the rich district of Damascus and judging on those who emerged wounded were either going to die due to their wounds or miraculously survive. I doubted that there were many like myself who managed to escape unscathed.

I was shaking. I couldn't stop crying. I saw death again. I could still feel the burn from the feathers of the arrow on my nose.

Guards were running around, some aiding those in need while many were searching for the Merchant King's killer. The guards were stupid, not knowing that the man walking next to me was the very murderer of their own private killer.

I looked down at his left arm as it swung back and forth in rhythm with his steps, blood on his glove and bracer, the crimson life force embedding itself inside the rivets and grooves of the bracer, dying the heart pattern the red I knew it would be.

I don't remember reaching the bureau, perhaps I was too busy looking at the bracer or maybe I was wondering what this noise was, it was constant, whatever it was, the brief pauses so short and far in between, almost never stopping but whatever it was, it was grating on my nerves.

Altair knocked on the door, the sound making me jump before his hand on my lower back moved to my shoulder, tightening briefly. The door creaked open but was the flung wide open, the rafik bidding us to come inside. "Altair, my friend," Kalil started but when his eyes saw me, he clicked his tongue, taking me from Altair and led me inside. I suppose the assassin closed the door, I wasn't sure, I wasn't paying attention, instead, I was lead into a room filled with pots all around, almost like a store room. "Are you injured as well?"

"No, the guards did not hurt me but that blood isn't hers."

It wasn't…it's theirs! The noise grew louder as I put my hands to my head, gripping my hair in disgusting clumps as I fell to my knees. They're dead, they're all dead.

"She's in shock."

"She's been making that noise since the party."

That noise was me?

"I'll deal with her, go rest, Altair." I heard the assassin make a noise. "Go, my wife will forgive me for touching another now go."

The cloth was removed from me gently before I heard the clicking of a tongue against teeth. Very carefully, Kalil removed the bloody jewelry, setting them aside for the time being. He had knelt to be in front of me, his eyes watching his hands carefully. He spoke in low tones, in reassuring words but none of them I could understand, the noise, whatever sound I was making, was drowning this out. The combs in my hair were carefully pulled away and they too joined the jewelry.

I saw him gather these in his hands before standing. My own hands flew out and grabbed onto his robes, pausing the two of us. "She…she gave them to me…" I whispered, the noise gone but my voice raw.

"Who did?" he asked in a gentle tone, as if he was scared he might break me by speaking louder than a whisper.

"The…the courtesan. She…she gave these to me," I replied, my voice shaking as I motioned to what I was wearing. I finally looked down to what I was wearing, the henna on my belly covered by blood, the blue now a dark red, the dark liquid on my arms drying and all I could picture was that girl dying in front of me. How many were like her, forced to die in a slow and painful matter? How many were spared such a horrid death and had an arrow to the head? How many were like me, scarred survivors?

I saw something flash in Kalil's eyes when I looked back up at him. "I'll have these cleaned then. Are you well enough to bathe yourself?" I nodded slowly. The blood, it was sticky, itchy. It covered my whole front, the veil sticking to my face, my hair plastered, the henna designs covered, drowned out by it all. "Are you okay to move?"

I looked up at the rafik, his eyes watching me carefully, his face showing concern."I think I am," I muttered, trying to get to my feet with some trouble. Though Kalil moved to catch me when I fell, I felt another pair of arms around me instead. I looked at the one who caught me, seeing Altair was watching me carefully as well. "I'll be alright, you can let go." I pulled away from him, seeing that the blood had dyed his robes as well. I wanted to vomit from it all, feeling sicker than I had ever been. Altair's golden eyes peered over the rafik before a strange look crossed his face, quickly replaced by his stoic mask before he turned heel and left the room. Had he never left when Kalil told him to?

The rafik had pointed to a room with a wooden tub in it only, the equivalence of a bathroom, I suppose, before setting off to drop of the crimson stained jewelry. I could hear the two men talking but through the walls, it was muffled and it worried me a little. Had I snapped? Was I still in shock that nothing could bother me anymore? I had pinched myself but the pain was too dull for me to really care. I hadn't stopped shaking though I had stopped making that weird noise again.

Two by two, the rafik had returned to dump two buckets of steaming hot water into the tub, making few trips before returning, arms with clothes and shoes. "I have nothing pretty for you to wear, I apologize about that," he said once they were handed over to me. "If there's anything you need, please, feel free to ask."

I had nodded once before I saw him turn and leave, perhaps to deal with Altair and how his mission went, no doubt ready with praise on hand. I loved the rafik, he was so easy to get along with, almost puppy like in some ways but wise in others. I remember his lines from the game, how they always made me laugh even if the mood was serious. How things were different from game and now.

This is a video game, I'm in a world that never existed except in the minds of the developers, the gamers, those that were fanatic about the assassins. I'm not from here, this world, this time, none of it is mine.

I entered the room with the tub, closing the door and looked at the steaming waters. A hot bath to sooth the troubled soul. I wanted to laugh and cry at it. Setting down the clothes the rafik had given me, I searched them carefully to see if the blood had transferred to them as well but was thankful that it hadn't. Reaching the tub, I dipped a finger in the water, seeing the ripples extend to the edges of the tub before bouncing back to the middle where my finger was.

Retracting my finger, I undid my top, feeling where the knots were, where loose ties had fallen before it fell to the floor beneath me. I pulled off my veil as well, felling it tug along my skin before it too joined the top on the ground. I looked down at my skin, seeing areas where the fabric of the top where thick enough to make sure the blood didn't leak through and yet there were spots of blood that covered my skin. I slipped out of the pants, having to stop only to undo the anklet. The temple bells were covered but like the others, it would be cleaned as well.

I bit my lips lip, my tongue tasting the salt of the dried blood as my hand went to my groin. I closed my eyes, concentrating on a serious task before finally extracting the tampon from my person. I would have to burn the wad of cotton to get rid of it, feeling disgusted that I had to dig it out myself. I cringed at the thought but I had managed to pull through.

I slowly dipped myself in the waters of the tub, feeling the hot waters swirl around my ankles and legs before I lowered myself to slowly sit in the tub. It was hot but it was cool enough to sit and not worry about burning myself. The rafik must have had hot water on hand or something. My knees to my chest, I began to run my hands over my knees, pulling water to cover them as water as red began to fall into the water. My fingers were showing signs of clearing while my legs were still running red with the blood of the innocent, dying the waters as crimson as the liquid life force.

Over the movement of the water, I could hear the conversation of the two assassins in the other room. The voices were slightly muffled but it was clear enough to make out the words. "Abul Nuqoud's reign of terror is at an end," I heard Altair say. Already, I can see him showing the rafik the feather that was drenched in the blood of the fat Templar.

"I'm glad to hear it." I let out a soft sigh, a small smile on my lips. He never ceased to amuse me.

"He killed them," Altair said, his voice dark once again. Flashes of the bodies on the ground passed in my mind. "The men and women at his party; it was poison." The man at the fountain…Oh God, I could still hear him dying. "A coward's tool, blamed them for the war; said he wished to end it." The girl with the arrow in her neck, she had pleaded at me with her eyes as she fell to her knees. Pull it out, her eyes said, pull it out and save me.

I wanted to cover my ears from the conversation but I couldn't, my hands were still covered in the blood of everyone. "Strange, but then again, the merchant king was known to be a bit…different." Different? Different? He killed them in cold blood, watching as they all died! If Altair hadn't killed him, I was sure he would have been laughing at the victims, watching them in joy as they begged for their lives, bubbles of blood flowing from their wounds, spewing from their mouths. "Perhaps this was merely a symptom of his madness?" Madness? That was madness? That wasn't madness, that was cruelty and a lack of respect for human life!

"Perhaps." I heard the doubt in Altair's voice, I could tell he was questioning Abul Nuqoud's reasoning, perhaps even more.

The rafik spoke next, his words carefully chosen. "You sound unconvinced. Speak with Al Mualim then, he may off a better explanation."

"Yes, we'll see what he has to say." Altair sounded, I wasn't sure, like he was hoping for something. Answers, maybe?

I heard footsteps echo before I moved my feet out of the edge of the tub, holding my nose closed with a hand before I dunked my head in the water. Already, I felt the bubbles form along my scalp and under my neck as I ran my other hand through my hair, taking apart the clumps of hair made by the blood. Needing air, I resurfaced before I sat up completely, wiping my face with my hand. The water was now a murky red but it worked when I scrubbed my skin, scratching with my nails as dead skin, dirt, and blood came out from under my nails. With no mirror, I couldn't tell if I got all the blood or not but my incessant scratching didn't seem to help, it only succeeded in adding my own to the mix. I dunked my head a few times before I sat up completely, ringing my hair out before I stood.

The once hot water was now lukewarm, filled with murky red liquid.

I should have died with them, I should have taken an arrow like so many around at the time, I should have died. I should have died during the accident then I wouldn't be here, I wouldn't have seen that. Falling to my knees, my hands covered my face as I cried into them, heavy sobs wracking my body again. I was thankful that I was alone but I was sure that they could hear me crying in the other room as I could hear them talking. Damn assassins and their good hearing.

It was sometimes after that I finally stood and clothes, my body dry from being out of the water though my hair was still very damp. The clothes were…large on me, to saw the least, the pants needed a belt to be held up and the shirt was baggy, making me shapeless. Pulling on the legs of the pants, I padded my way of to the door, opening it up and walked along a hallway, two other doors in front of me, one was perhaps the bedroom of Kalil or for weapons or something, I wasn't sure, I didn't know and I wasn't about to go peeking.

entered the well lit doorway, seeing it was the inside of the bureau, the familiar pots covering the walls. In the courtyard, I could see the blue light of the night shining down from the ivy. "Ah, you're moving around. How do you feel?" I heard Kalil ask. As I turned to him, I could see the obvious worry in his eyes. Was it that hard to see a girl have a mental break down from all the death she just witnessed in one go?

I shrugged, lowering my eyes to the ground. "Elisheba." I looked up involuntarily to see Altair leaning against the doorframe of the bureau to the courtyard. His eyes furrowed before he turned and left to go in the courtyard, returning with a rag in hand. "Hold still," he said, putting a hand to the back of my neck before the rag came into view. I closed my eyes as I felt the cold water touch my face, just below my hairline, wiping away whatever I had missed. When he pulled away, I opened my eyes to see his move to my neck. "You're hurt."

"What?"

"Oh." I put a hand to my neck, feeling the raised welts with my fingertips. "I did that."

The two men looked at each other as Altair let me go, sharing a private look before turning back to me. Already I could tell that this would not end well.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that UbiSoft does.

A/N: Okay, so, something's wrong with the site because I thought I only got two reviews but when I linked this fic to my friend, it showed I had more reviews than what was emailed to me. Very odd, site, very odd. Anyways, thank you all for your reviews; they keep me going when I just want to give up sometimes.

It was later that I was sitting down on the cushions in the courtyard, my fingers brushing my hair in a crude comb, having moved away from the deadly assassin and rafik to leave the bureau, to sit under the grate. I could hear them whispering but their voices were too low to make out. Altair's deep voice resonated in my head though, as if the echoes were deliberately encoded themselves so I couldn't understand. I paid no attention to it though, I was too busy trying to brush my hair, do something with it. It was a little longer than I remember or maybe it was because I was hunched over? I didn't know. My other arm laid in my lap, the sleeve bunched at my shoulder. The self inflected scratches left welts in their wake, over the semi-permanent henna designs and yet, I still felt dirty. The blood was still on me; I could see but not see it. I felt as if my skin was sticky to the touch, as if life liquid covered me still. I could still smell it, oh God, the scent still covered me. It was in my hair, my skin, spreading to the clothes, all around me, permeating in the air. Couldn't they smell it?

Voices, dear God, the voices. The frightened screams, the terror that rose with every death, with every arrow that pierced unmarred skin, taking lives. They all screamed, in pain and fear, their eyes wide with their faces showing every emotion, begging, pleading, demanding to be helped. I felt myself begin to shake as a finger felt the tip of my nose, the slight burn having faded long ago and yet, if I just took another step, that arrow would have entered and left my skin, it would have killed me. Why didn't I die? Why did I have to trip over that corpse, land in hot blood and watch as many died before me? Why? I should have died! It should have been me with those innocent people!

Anger bubbled in me, filling me up as guilt bit at my eyes. My hand went to my bare arm, my nails digging in, leaving crescents markings before I dragged my hand down, the pain flaring up in my arm. This pain was nothing though, nothing compared to those that died at that party. They suffered horrible deaths. That man, Abul Nuqoud, he shouldn't have died quickly. He should have suffered like how his victims suffered. Why didn't I tell Altair to make him suffer? I led him to the path, told him where to go, why didn't I give out more instructions? He did it, he tore families apart; murdered sons, fathers, daughter, mothers! That Templar destroyed what peace they knew!

When my hand left my arm, I felt another pair on my hurt, cold slathered on my arm before something was wrapping tight around my wounds while another held my hand away in a tight grip. "This will not erase the memories," I heard. Kalil bound my arm with soft wrappings, trapping the blood beneath the white. No! NO! The blood! I could feel it even more now! I struggled away from the men, trying my hardest to fight. "Stop moving." No! "Stop!" NO!

A loud sound broke through my thoughts as a new pain flared in my cheek. "That's enough!" I turned my head, seeing Altair glare down at me, his hand raised. He slapped me… "You will stop that right now!" he commanded in a stern tone, as if scolding a child. In a way, he was, I was still young enough to be mistaken for one.

I felt tears well in my eyes before I nodded, ashamed of what I did; a new fear in Altair in my heart before I lowered my eyes. I wasn't crying due to the pain, though it did sting, but because he had to hit me. I wanted to hate him then, I tried to, I really did but with his thumb now rubbing circles in my palm, I couldn't. Kalil said nothing but finished binding my arm before lowering the sleeve. When the rafik left, Altair lowered my hand back into my lap, letting it go before he put a hand to my head. I looked up at him once again, a softer look in his eyes as he sat next to me. "Just this once," he said in a soft tone. I wasted no time flinging my arms around him, grabbing onto his robes as I sobbed. He shifted once before an arm wrapped around my back, unsure of what to do but it was enough. It was enough.

-.-.-

I woke up sometime later, the pain in my belly telling me I hadn't eaten, but I never ate when I was upset. I was in the courtyard still, a heavy blanket over me. Sitting up, I looked around, hearing the water falling in the fountains before I saw the white donned assassin, his hood up, the shadows covering his face. The only hint that he was awake was his eyes, the golden hues staring back at me. "Don't you ever sleep?" I asked, my voice rough as it cracked. He gave no answer to my question, only watched before his eyes turned away. "Is Kalil still here?"

"He is. Why would you suspect he leaves?"

I shrugged a shoulder, wrapping my arms around my knees as I pressed my back against the wall. "I heard him mention his wife."

I heard him nod, the fabric moving gently. "She's a silly little thing, no older than you. He returns to her whenever there is a night of peace. It's far and few between, I would guess."

I watched him carefully. "Does she know he's an assassin?"

Hi eyes returned to me. "No. She believes him to be potter, selling his wares while crafting some for high paying clients."

That confused me. "But I thought that was just a hobby of his."

A flash of a grin could be made out under the hood. "It is but he needs a cover up to hide from his wife. Some of it may be true but there is no doubt that if asked, he would return to the field of battle to eliminate his targets," he said, a deep respect in his voice. The two of them, Kalil and Altair, they respect each other so much, it's evident in the way they act around each other.

I nodded and turned my head away. This made me wonder more about the creed. I had assumed so much due to so many other sects like the creed that it all blended together. "Does the rafik in Acre have a wife?"

Altair shook his head. "The plague took her and their child sometime after I became an assassin. He never took another to be in her place, keeping to himself for the most part. He doesn't like to talk about himself."

I felt as if that was part of his reasoning to be rude and cold with me, denying my entrance to the bureau. "Did your master, Al Mualim, have one as well?"

I saw something flash in those golden eyes. "Once. She was lost in childbirth, his son on a mission." I suddenly felt as if that conversation was suddenly closed. "I have answered your questions, now answer mine: how did you know where I should go?"

Turning my head away, I felt my hair fall to block my view from the assassin. How was I going to explain that I had been on that mission so many times, that I had defeated all nine of his targets, that I knew what was going to happen, who was going to say something? I grabbed my hair, tugging on the ends as I began to comb my hair again with my fingers. I couldn't avoid his question forever; I knew that his patience wasn't eternal. I bit my lip, worrying it between my teeth before I took a deep breath. "I knew that Abul Nuqoud would run if he saw you, he was a coward to the very end." I slowly turned to look at the assassin, seeing that he wasn't satisfied with the answer. "I was in that party longer than you and saw that there weren't any of the bow men on the roof, so the next best thing was to find somewhere to climb." My mind flashed to the guards firing their arrows on the second floor. "The gazebo was out of the way from those killing the innocents, you wouldn't have been spotted."

"What were you doing there in the first place?" he snapped, seeming as if he was angry I put myself in danger. I winced, my eyes closing tightly. The air was still around us before I heard him make a noise. "Foolish woman, you could have gotten hurt."

My eyes flew open as I turned my head to him, watching the assassin very carefully. Why did it sound as if he was worried? Was he feeling something for me? Alarm bells went off in my head. I turned my head away, closing my eyes so I didn't have to see him. "Yeah well, that's what I get for traveling around with an assassin," I said, my voice a little louder than usual. I heard him take a breath before my eyes went back to his form. "There is such a thing as hazardous people and you, assassin, are the very definition."

His eyes narrowed. "You didn't answer the question. Why were you there?" He was watching me, like an eagle watches his prey. I could almost see his head lowering to be in an attack position before striking to get an answer for me. I was suddenly fearful of him.

I didn't want to think about the party anymore, not of the blood bath, of the screams of the dying, not the scared faces forever frozen on the corpses but the images, the voices, all of it bubbled back up to the surface. "I left the bureau," I whispered. "I wanted to gather information, see if I could find a way home or at least try to help you." I watched him carefully. "A guard at the souk saw me. He and his friends were going to attack me, I ran." I put a hand to my forehead, a small smile on my lips. "I'm such a coward."

My eyes went up to the grate to see the unfamiliar stars. "I couldn't see where I was going, my asthma was getting to me. Apparently, I passed out."

"Asthma?"

Oh right, they didn't know about that yet. "I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move because I was out of breath and I eventually passed out." I bit my lower lip again. "The courtesans said I was possessed by a demon." I heard him mumble under his breath before a hand went under the hood, staying near his face. If I were to guess, I'd say he was pinching the bridge of his nose.

My hands shook as I spotted blood under my nails. Was that my blood from when I was scratching myself or was it…? "They died…they screamed for mercy and they died," I muttered. "There was a girl, younger than myself…she watched me as she died. I couldn't save her, I couldn't do anything." The assassin said nothing, only listened to me ramble. I kept muttering to myself, the whole time, my nails dug into my palms. No blood fell however, I wasn't clenching my fists hard enough, I couldn't. The movement of Altair's thumb on my palm was still playing on my nerves, the feel still imprinted on my skin. My fingers felt where his thumb traveled in circles before my fingers went to my neck, feeling the raised welts before it went to my bandaged arm. Had I had my knife, would I have slit my wrists? Would my emotions get the better of me and force me to take my own life?

The voices didn't leave my head, neither the blood all over the inside of my eyelids, ruining whatever thought I had formed in my head. I didn't give the assassin a second glance that night as I curled up on the cushions again, trying so hard to shake away these images, these feelings, if only for a night. Sleep, that's all I ever wanted for that night.

I would suppose I considered myself lucky I couldn't dream, or rather, couldn't remember what I dreamt. Did I shout and cry out due to nightmares or did I suffer in silence. To this day, I still don't know.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Disclaimer: I don't own UbiSoft products.

A/N: Thank you all for you reviews. I apologize for the last chapter being short and for this one being late. So this weekend, you get two chapters again, this one early because I'm so freaking tired, the next later, after I wake up. It will still be on Sunday by some standards but none the less, it'll be a second chapter. Next week I'll post regularly again. On a side note, over 25k hits. You guys are awesome. Thank you all so much.

The morning sun rose and with it, the assassins. I swear, these guys have an alarm clock somewhere, I just don't know where. I had woken up to the smell of something sweet as a pastry was dangled under my nose, the sugary substance pulling me out of the darkness, pulling me out of…whatever the dream, if I dreamt, was. Cracking open an eye, I saw the sight of what looked like bread with some sort of glaze. "Donut?" No, no, donuts weren't for…man, I needed to brush up on my history. I heard a chuckle before the sweet thing was moved away. I sat up, before I got into a stretch, my arms out in front of me as my fingers stretched as far as they could before flexing, my nails scratching at the ground beneath me as my back arched. I knew I stretched like a cat but I had to admit, when I do a stretch like a feline, I could help but revile in the feeling that soreness was gone, replaced by the familiar burns of muscle and the satisfactory cracking of my joints.

Once my stretch was over, I peered up at the one holding the treat, seeing Kalil smile down at me as he crouched near me, holding it out again. "Breakfast. I didn't know what you liked so I hope it's satisfactory."

I took the sweet treat, feeling the fluffy pastry beneath my fingers as the glaze spilled over in a thick roll. Once the small meal left his fingers, the rafik of Damascus sucked on his rough fingers, cleaning them from the glaze. Switching hands, I followed suit, tasting sweet sweet honey. Oh, honey, I've missed you! "What is this?" I asked, replacing my forefinger with my thumb, my teeth grazing the pad of my thumb to remove the thick substance.

The rafik shrugged, his smile is a lopsided one, his playful attitude showing through as he stood. "It's a treat from across the seas, England, if I were to guess." His eyes flickered to another pile of cushions not too far from me. The smile was gone, replaced by something serious. "He's worried." Immediately I knew Kalil was talking about Altair, the mood suddenly replaced. "He won't show it, he never does, but you're worrying him, and that, in turn, is worrying me."

I lowered my gaze, watching as honey dripped down to my fingers. "I'm an innocent," I said gently. "Abul's party, it was tragic." I shook my head. "I've seen it several times and yet, that was the first time it affected me." His shadow's head tilted. Oh shit! I blinked hard gritting my teeth. "It's not exactly easy to see death. Traveling with an assassin certainly hardens a person but that, that wasn't an assassin's work, that was cruelty. They all died for nothing." Anger filled me up; I could feel it boiling in my skin.

Kalil knelt again, I heard his knees popping. "He was known to be strange and so it wouldn't exactly be difficult to comprehend that he has killed many of those innocents." He set a hand on my head. "You seem to be better than you were. It's a shame someone like you had to see that."

I shook my head, feeling his hand rub due to my movement. "I've seen Altair kill before but all those people…" I shuddered. "Why would someone do that, to all those people? They were lured in, baited, trapped!"

"The working of a mad man's mind is mysterious," he said, almost sending me into a fit of déjà vu. He was calm, too calm, but the look on his face was a mixture of concern and contemplation. I had a feeling the worry was brief but the concentrated look was genuine. He was an assassin after all, perhaps he was thinking on what the fat Templar was, what the goal was, perhaps even, if my small theory was correct, what would have happened if Altair hadn't slain his target.

A cold shudder ran through me. If Abul Nuqoud hadn't died, what would have done? Would he go through the courtyard, to find survivors? Would he torture said survivors? What if he had found me? I would have to sleep with him then, I had somewhat promised… EW! A shudder ran through me and I was suddenly not hungry anymore.

The sound of something landing next to us made me turn my head, seeing Altair crouched down before he stood tall, he hands in fists as he was slightly out of breath. "I couldn't find anything. It's as if everything was destroyed." He seemed upset by this, whatever it was, his anger showing in his eyes but the stoic mask remained in place. The rafik nodded, his eyes casted down, in deep thought. Altair took a few steps before plopping down next to me, leaning his head back as it thud against the stone wall, the hood covering more of his face now.

As confused as I was, I couldn't help but think that Altair was pouting just a small bit. Of course, his lips weren't in the normal pout position but in my mind's eye, I could see a smaller version on him pouting, frustrated with his arms crossed. I almost burst out laughing when he actually did cross his arms, his head lowering as I saw his eyes narrow. Ripping off a bite, I held the gooey messy pastry to Altair, hoping to catch his attention. For a few seconds, he didn't seem to notice but his eyes slid to the pastry before he took it out of my hand, ripping off a piece before eating it. I followed suit, tasting the food at last. Damn the honey, it was so thick! Still, it was filling and my stomach was grateful. I don't think I could handle this assassin diet, I was pretty sure I had lost weight since my arrival.

…How long ago was that…? I had to think in different terms now, the days and nights were melting together, especially while on the horse going to and from one city to another. I put a hand to my lower belly; my body was my only means of guessing. My last period was when I was home, actually, when I was at work and that was perhaps a few days before I arrived. But I had counted down days not too long ago, seeming as if I was here for a month, perhaps longer now. But then, why would my period come by later and later?

My freshman health instructor came into my head then, teaching us about the female reproduction and how changes in diet and stress can alter the menstrual cycle. Well, I think it's safe to assume I was pretty stressed out. Could the charm also affect my period? I'd have to ask Alima when I get back to Masyaf. I was pretty learned in terms of my time, my world, but this was all so new and I'd need to know. My stomach roared, snapping my concentration.

My head snapped up, as I looked around. Kalil and Altair were missing but I could hear their voices inside the bureau as well as the sounds of metal. I was wary to stand, I wasn't sure if I was still bleeding or not so I don't know if I spotted my borrowed clothes or the cushions. I felt like I needed a bath, just to make sure. As I stood though, I couldn't see any stains but that didn't mean anything. One problem done, down to another. That's right! The pot. Disgusting non-plumbing backwaters medieval times! At least the Romans had plumbing and toilets! I was grateful though, as my bladder was empty and it was evident that I had finished my cycle. I was relieved about it.

Returning into the main room of the bureau, I saw Altair setting up his blades, checking his hidden blade as he ran two fingers up and down the edge before his middle finger tapped the tip a few times, blood beading where the skin was pricked. "You have everything?" I heard Kalil ask Altair. The assassin grunted before turning his eyes to me briefly. "Ah, she emerges!" I felt the mood lighten as Kalil smiled brightly. I couldn't imagine him without a wife now; he was too sweet, too kindhearted, and too lovable to be alone. I'm suddenly thankful for him finding a special someone out there. "Here, as promised, I'm returning them."

A pouch was set on the counter, the contents inside jingled to tell me that they were metallic of some kind. My mind went blank as I stared at the bag, the mood suddenly gone; leaving me missing it in the coldness it left in its wake. I knew that inside was the borrowed jewelry, cleaned of any and all blood and yet, I couldn't bring myself to go near it. The blood that once covered them, it were the blood from those people who died. They were gifts from a dead woman. I was numb all over as my body went to the counter, grabbing the pouch, my grip so tight I could feel every shape of the jewelry.

I didn't want to think of what was in my hand, what it went through, it was all too much, the horrible memories and the smell of the salty blood filled my senses.

"Elisheba?" I sharply inhaled, my head clearing right away as Kalil looked at me with concern. "Is everything alright?"

I nodded mutely as I looked to Altair. He didn't look at me like Kalil did, he just looked. Impassive, I supposed. My eyes trailed his face. I was so familiar with him now, his straight nose, golden eyes, the scar on his lips, everything was familiar. Well, almost everything. I cracked a grin before tapping my chin with a finger. "You missed some."

There on his chin was a drop of honey, glistening without a care in the world. I felt my insides flutter when his tongue snaked out to get part of the dribble. He then raised his hand and wiped the rest away, making his glove sticky. I don't think I minded that bit, he has a wide tongue. And my mind went perverted! I blinked and looked away, trying to kill this blue while my inner fangirl was throwing up images of so many dark and naughty things.

Forcing myself to turn away, I paid attention to some rather interesting pots Kalil had previously made perhaps days before while I heard said rafik chuckle over something. "Altair, you should not keep Al Mualim waiting, he would want to hear of your progress immediately." I heard Altair's hood move before he walked out the door, I caught sight of him from the corner of my eye. "Come, let us take the back." He was personally escorting me out? I was in shock and awe but he was the sweetest rafik in the game. "Perhaps we'll meet again."

I smiled and nodded. "If Altair receives word to come back, you can rest assure that I'll join him."

"Then I'll await that day. Until then, please take care," he said with a huge smile, sending me off to follow after the stoic assassin.

Altair didn't look pleased that I didn't follow him up, perhaps he was waiting for me, but it didn't matter, he said nothing as we eased our way out of Damascus, leaving the city. Looking into my pouch of borrowed jewelry, I took out a simple silver ring, one that went on my thumb, dropped it in the sand outside of the side and covered it with my foot, burying it.

It wasn't much, a simple piece of silver, not worthy of all those lives that were tragically taken, but it helped ease my heart as their dying sounds finally faded from my ears.

-.-.-

Yes, it's uploaded early. The second chapter will be up later today and to show my appreciation, the next chapter will have a special treat for you all. And yes, before I get complaints, next chapter will be longer than this.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Ubi made.

A/N: Second chapter for this weekend. Thank you all for your reviews.

The mare had greeted Altair with gusto as he drew near. I had never seen a horse so happy to see their rider, it was a heartwarming sight. Of course, the assassin had stroked her muzzle before climbing onto her back, ready to ride off with the wind to Masyaf. I followed suit, noticing my horse was trembling but I passed it off as excitement as well. I had lowered to pat his neck, the neck muscle was welcoming. Though I missed the other horse, I was starting to like the one I have now. Pulling on the reins, I whistled for him to follow Altair.

We had a long way to go before we reached Masyaf, before I can question Alima on my cycle, and before I can finally sleep in a bed again. Of course, sleeping on cushions were great and everything, however, my back was starting to complain. This was the life of an assassin, I suppose. The only comforts in life that they get are small and far inbetween. Already I can see Damascus fading from view as I turn around to see it. It was then that I noticed my hair was uncovered. I quickly pulled out a small cloth and made myself a shawl, realizing that I didn't cause a panic when we were leaving. There were many women without shawls as well so I suppose one woman without it wouldn't raise much of a commotion.

Would we make our way to the safe house again? I had hoped so but at the same time, I'd rather we didn't. My period is a private matter and I didn't want to be at risk for a disease or an early death if I didn't do something but I'm alright now so perhaps we can just skip it.

Something was disturbing Altair. He hadn't spoken one word since returning to the bureau, as far as I could tell. Normally this wouldn't bother me but it did. He was acting differently, almost like he was a different person; it was highly disturbing. Speeding up my horse, I managed to catch up to him, watching as much as I could, his hood covering his face. "Altair?" No response. "Altair," I said a little louder. I finally huffed and turned away. He was too deep in his thoughts to really answer, though I had no idea why. Shaking my head, I slowed my horse to walk behind again, not really caring if the assassin had heard me or not.

For the rest of the day, it was like this, not a single word had passed between us, he hardly moved on the mare, only shifting from time to time, the twitcher. By the time evening had come, he had twitched a total of seven times. Day one on the way back to Masyaf, nothing. Even as Altair sat by the fire that evening, nothing. It was a bit odd. But as I watched him, I began to notice that he was writing in the sand. I don't know what he was writing until I saw William and Garnier's names, badly misspelled, written down as well. He was trying to tie these men together. He was still going on about that? I rolled my eyes as I chewed on a bit of dried meat. A part of me wanted to tell him everything, tell him how these men were Templars, that he would be the new leader of the assassins, that things will be so much more difficult from here on out, but I knew that if I did, I'd screw up everything. How can one girl convince an assassin that his life will change forever?

I couldn't, that's the problem. He wouldn't listen to me, instead, deem me mad, perhaps dump me off in Acre and that'd be that. He'd probably do that first chance he could but I was confident that the mark on my leg meant that I wouldn't be sent away since I do know their secrets. Best bet? Keep my mouth shut.

Once again, I fell asleep to him sharpening his already dangerous weaponry and the horses snuffling loudly.

It was like this for two more days. We had less the three days to get to Masyaf and Altair still hadn't spoken one word. It was a bit disturbing but I couldn't just spring up a conversation on him…or could I? One of the days, I got fed up with the silence. "I'm not a sheet slitter, I'm a sheet slitter's son, and I'm only slitting sheets til the sheet slitter comes."

Altair literally stopped the horse, turned and looked at me. "What?"

I giggled. "It got your attention." He gave me an incredulous look. "You haven't said one word since we left Damascus and it was beginning to bug me. What's wrong?"

He furrowed his eyebrows before turning away. "The men I've killed, they speak strange words…"

I sighed again. "Ask it from Al Mualim. If he keeps saying no, be persistant. He's bound to tell you everything sooner or later."

"Perhaps."

That was the extent of the conversation. It bugged me that one of the greatest men in the world of Assassin's Creed couldn't figure out why these men were doing the things they were doing. Maybe if I tried to think like he did, without any outside knowledge, maybe I wouldn't have been able to figure it out either.

The next day, only one more away from Masyaf now, he was still quiet, but towards the evening, he was getting antsy. He wanted to know the answers right away. Why? What difference did it make? That only meant that he'd have a better reason to kill them rather than his master saying so. Altair, you fool, don't you get it?

The evening came quickly, with it, the usual fire. I fought off sleep to stay awake, to see him continue to try and figure out the mystery.

The fire gave him different shadows than what I was used to. He looked tired, almost innocent. I bit my lip, in hard thought. There was something I wanted to do, that I knew it would only happen once, but I was afraid to do it because I didn't want to mess things up. However, he needed this distraction.

Going to his side, I saw him watching me, as if trying to figure out what I'm going to do. "Altair, I need you to trust me for a minute." He said nothing, only watched me some more. "I need you to close your eyes."

"If you're going to change clothes, I won't look," he replied before looking at the fire.

A part of me wanted to smack him but I couldn't help but laugh. "No, I'm not going to change, besides I don't have anything to change into." He turned my way again. "Just please, close your eyes. I want to do something and I have a feeling that if I don't do it, I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

The assassin raised an eyebrow but closed his eyes. Biting my lip, I quickly weighed my options. To do it could mean that I mess things up, that things would be awkward but if I don't, I'd miss my chance, but everything would stay the same.

My heart pounded deep within my chest as I felt a blush burn on my face. Now or never, Elizabeth. Taking a deep breath, I slowly inched closer before I closed my own.

I felt his lips against mine as I heard and felt him take an intake of breath sharply. I was about to move away when I felt him respond, pushing against me as well. My inner fangirl screamed happily, melting into a pile of goo, and exploding all at once. My heart threatened to stop before I finally pulled away, taking a breath before I opened my eyes, seeing him look down at me.

We waited for the other to move, watching each other carefully before I finally moved away. "Are you satisfied?" My inner fangirl had a nose bleed, my mind catching a double meaning. I blushed even heavier at that as I nodded, keeping my eyes lowered. "Why did you do that?"

I smiled a little, finally looking back up at him. "Because I've wanted to do that for a very long time now." I saw something in his face before my heart skipped a beat, horror washing over me. "Please understand this," I said, feeling the blood rush away from my face. "I do care about you, Altair, but I know that you will never be mine. As upset as I am about that, I've accepted it." I looked away, not wanted to see him anymore. I shouldn't have kissed him.

I heard him sigh before he put a hand to my head. "I enjoyed it as well." As corny as it sounded, I laughed before looking over to him, seeing the corners of his mouth lifted. "You say that I'll never be yours, are you lying again, soothsayer?"

"No. Altair, trust me when I say that you have someone waiting on you." The look on his face was one of shock before he removed his hand, looking into the fire. Was he thinking of Adha? "Altair, everything will come together soon," I whispered, unsure if he heard me. I didn't ask, I went to sleep instead.

For the first time in a long time, I dreamt that night.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.

A/N: Thanks for your reviews. Don't worry, things will get better soon. Also, yeah, I realized it too late but I can't count! If no one caught it, I'm not worried, but if so, HA, I'm sorry. And yes, this is late. There was a storm last night and the chapter got wiped so I had to retype it. Sorry, sorry.

_Barking, jumping high in the air, begging for me to throw it. My dog looked up at me as I held the tennis ball high in the air, barking against before I threw it. I could hear the voices of my parents as they watched from the porch, sharing a cigarette between them, my mother instructing me to throw the ball further. I did as asked, feeling the muscles in my arm rip as I threw the ball as hard as I could. Something flashed and I was at work, talking to my boss as she's going on about work, our newest event going on. Her smiles try to reassure my doubts, saying it would be alright. I supposed that it would be but as I fell into a world of color, I heard it. Someone said my name and I turned, seeing a forever endless plane of white. Limbo? Purgatory? There was no end to this and yet, up ahead was a shimmer of gold, faint at first, glowing brighter and brighter as it blinded me, the white fading to black. "Awake."_

I woke up with a start, seeing the sun starting to rise before I sat up. I put my hand to my head, the dream fading into wisps as my mind started to forget about it. What was this feeling, like dread, like I was to expect something bad to happen? I felt this feeling before, before we reached the city of Damascus so would something bad happen in Masyaf? No, no, in the game, Altair is told the truth, nothing bad happens this time. My stomach clenched at the thought. Four more men, two in Jerusalem, one in Acre, and the other in Damascus before… I shook my head before stretching. I could hear the whiskering of the horses as they slowly moved about before the sounds of sand shifting caught my attention.

Altair had walked to the camp, fixing something behind his back as he looked at me. "You're awake."

I nodded, putting my hand to my head again, trying to grasp the fading strings of the dream. "I had a dream. It, I don't know, it felt important." I tried to remember, I really did, but I could just barely remember. "I can't, I don't know, I woke up too fast, I can't remember it." I felt homesick once again. It's been what, a month and so and I'm still feeling homesick? I closed my eyes, trying to remember what my mother's voice sounded like, my father's hugs, even what some of my brother's jokes were but they were slipping from my memory.

I saw him nod, his hands returning to the armor around his waist as he smoothed it. Did it connect together in the back? To be honest, I've never studied the armor of an assassin, not even Ezio's and I'm eager to see how it all works. Altair wouldn't let me touch his things, our trust in each other wavered a bit last night and no other assassin besides Kalil does trust me. Maybe I could find a spare in Masyaf and mess around with it a little, just to understand armor a bit. Maybe…

Something then struck me as odd. We should have already made it to Masyaf. It took us two days to arrive as Damascus and nearly a week to get back. Why? Why had it taken us so long? Had Altair noticed? Probably not, he was so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed the horses moving much slowly than usual. However, this wasn't a problem now, he was moving with such gusto, I suddenly pictured him hyper and it was a slightly scary thought.

I would guess that he's finally had enough of the riddles Al Mualim was giving. I knew what was coming up, I wasn't surprised.

We started off before dawn, the horses in a hard run racing to Masyaf. This impatience was more like Altair, he was never one to wait for anything and this riddle was grating on his nerves, that was obvious. Though I had to admit, I was anxious to get back as well and the ride cleared my head of being homesick. I was missing my family, my friends, even my job, if one could believe it, but at the same time, I needed familiarity. Altair and the desert were familiar, yes, but I need parental, like Alima.

Masyaf appeared on the horizon half a day later, when the sun had changed sides. I was surprised that we were so close but I guess when Altair's in thought, no one can disturb him, not even when home is half a day away.

Home…

This isn't home; this isn't my world, my time. This is a video game! It's not real.

Right?

Everything just wasn't right. No, things were melding together as I was losing more and more of my older self. No, no, that can't be right, I'm still me. And yet, as we pull in closer and closer to Masyaf, to the great fortress, I couldn't help but wonder, would that woman know? She knows about the Apple, maybe she knows what's happening to me.

Upon reaching the stables, Altair eagerly jumped off his horse, rubbing the mare's neck before continuing on to the library. I was a bit slower, granted, but I made sure to keep him within eyesight. It's not like I didn't know my way back to the library, to the gardens, but still, I wanted to keep up. Something was going to happen between Altair and his master and though I had heard it many times before, I was going to hear it once again, this time in person.

My inner fangirl screamed loudly at the memory that was playing in my head. Oh yes, this would be good. The villagers in Masyaf were as rowdy and noisy as ever though the children were missing. Had something happened while we were gone? Maybe they were all playing somewhere or some had to stay insides. I wasn't sure; I didn't think I wanted to ask.

The assassin in front of me wasn't emitting a happy mood, no, this one was impatient and I had a feeling that this bitterness would cost him a few cuts and bruises if he were to get into a fight. "Altair?" The assassin's hood turned my way but the speed didn't slow and my legs were burning as I tried to keep up, my breath hard to hold onto. "What are you going to tell your master?" His fists tightened as the hood swiveled away. He didn't say anything but as I ran to catch up to him, I could see his jaw tensed up, his eyes hard.

A fear deep in my heart bloomed and once again, I was afraid of him. I slowed my pace so I was once again behind him as my hand unconsciously rose, my fingers touching my cheek. I was scared of him again.

Upon reaching the library, I saw the Ra'uf and his students were missing but there were a few men still around the ring, perhaps they were waiting for something, I wasn't sure. A few of them looked…lost. They had a confused look in their eyes, as if they were trying to piece something together.

"The master waits for you," I heard and saw another assassin bowing down to Altair, his hand going back to his sword.

Altair said nothing, only continued on his way. Looking up to the window, I saw Al Mualim looking down at us, his face peaceful. I smiled before I sped up, my pace matching Altair's now. I wanted to go into the library but at the same time, I wanted to see the master of the assassins, more so, where he kept the Apple. I had to get home, I can't forget that and the Apple seems to be my ticket out of here.

When we reached the stairs, the assassin turned his head, his eyes landing on me. Wait here, his eyes said but I shook my head. I was still coming with him. He sighed before passing a scholar, the robed man carrying scrolls back downstairs, to put them up somewhere. Did Al Mualim read them, searching for something?

"Come, Altair, I would have news of your progress." Speak of the devil.

The assassin followed obediently, his head lowered slightly out of respect for his master. "I have done as you've asked," he said in a soft tone, finally standing in front of Al Mualim's desk.

The older man smiled warmly, his hands behind his back as he nodded. "Good, good." Altair turned his head away, eyes meeting mine as I stayed near a bookshelf. I nodded to him once, feeling that I had to help him ask. "I sense your thoughts are elsewhere, speak your mind," the master said, his tone filling me up with trust as he spoke with a soft tone.

Altair's head snapped up. "Each man I'm sent to kill speaks cryptic words to me, each time I come to you and ask for answers, each time you only give riddles in exchange, but no more!" His hand tightened in a fist, eyes narrowed.

Al Mualim backed away a step before his own mismatched eyes narrowed, his hand raising as he pointed a finger accusingly at the assassin before him. "Who are you to say 'no more'?"

"I'm the one who does the killing! If you want it to continue, you'll speak straight with me for once!" I took a step back, my fingers holding onto the bookshelf I was near, the fear he planted in me growing more and more.

His master rose a hand, as if warning Altair. "Tread carefully, boy, I do not like your tone."

"And I do not like your deception!" Altair barked, taking a step closer to his master, fury in his eyes.

The older man rose to the challenge, drawing near his desk, his finger pointing at the assassin once again. "I have offered you a chance to restore your lost honor!" What honor was there to be lost? Altair was a brash young man before Solomon's temple, everyone knew it; he was cocky!

However, said assassin bared his teeth, his shoulders raised in a defensive position as his fist shook. "Not lost! Taken! By you! Then you've sent me to fetch it like some damn dog!" he growled out. The darkness and fury in his voice sent chills and made my stomach flutter, my inner fangirl screaming her head off.

I heard metal scrapping on wood as Al Mualim rose a sword, his own anger clashing against Altair's as his once calm face was in a fury. "It seems I'll need to find another! Shame, you've shown great potential!" My heart froze and I was scared for both of them. I had seen this before, yes, but something changed and I didn't know if they were going to attack each other like a pair of lions or not. Still, the assassin stood his ground, unafraid.

"I think if you had another, you would have sent him long ago!" Al Mualim blinked and lowered the sword, having been found out. Altair took a deep breath, his eyes closed before looking back at the man he called master, controlling his anger in search for answers. "You said the answer to my question will arise when I no longer needed to ask it. So I will not ask, I demand you tell me what binds these men!"

The old man looked beaten and tired, the sword in his hand lowered before he sighed and took a breath. "What you say is true," he replied, his voice sounding much older than he appeared. He turned to the assassin, a hard look in his mismatched eyes. "These men are connected, by a blood oath not unlike our own."

"Who are they?" Altair shouted out, his patience wearing thin. Al Mualim said something, something in Latin, laying down the sword once again. I don't know what it was he had said, I never looked it up, but shock was apparent on Altair's face as he took as step back, as if he had been stabbed in the gut. Again. "Templars."

"Now you see the true reach of Robert de Sable." Wait, he pronounced Robert's name correctly.

No. I didn't want to believe it, I had hoped. My heart fell as I closed my eyes. "All of these men, leaders of cities, commanders of armies," Altair whispered out, finally piecing everything together.

"All pledge allegiance to his cause."

"Their work's not meant to be viewed on their own, are they?" I heard Altair speak, his tone incredulous as if he couldn't believe it. "But as a whole…" I opened my eyes, seeing his own snap up to his master. "What do they desire?" he asked quickly.

"Conquest!" He answered that a little too quickly. "They seek the Holy Land not in the name of God, but for themselves!"

Altair's eyes darted in front of him, seeing key ingredients that he was missing. "But what of Richard? Saladin?"

There was darkness in Al Mualim's voice, one that turned my stomach with disgust. "Any who oppose the Templars will be destroyed!" He relaxed though and his shoulders dropped. "Be assured, they have the means to accomplish it."

Nodding, the assassin stepped forward. "Then they must be stopped!" He sounded like an eager warrior ready for his blade to taste his opponent's blood.

The teacher in Al Mualim came out again as he nodded as well. "That is why we do our work, Altair, to ensure a future free of such things."

Altair glanced over at me, perhaps to see my reaction but I looked back to his master. He followed suit, his tone careful. "Why did you hide the truth from me?"

"That you might pierce the veil yourself. Like any task, knowledge proceeds action." Holding up two hands, he waved them around. "Information learned is more valuable than information given." The hands lowered and I saw him smirk, though sadness filled his eyes. "Besides, your recent behavior had not inspired much confidence."

Altair's head and eyes lowered, shamed by the truth. "I see," he said softly, almost inaudible. My inner fangirl made a noise as I felt my body tugging to go hug the man.

"Altair, your mission has not changed, merely the context of which you perceive it," his master said, sounding very much like a father. However, his fingers danced over something on his desk. The Apple!

"And armed with this knowledge I might better understand those Templars that remain," the assassin said, sounding like the man I knew he'd become, the wise man that would inspire assassins far and wide.

The old man nodded, a smile on his face, triumph in his eyes. "Is there anything else you want to know?"

Altair nodded, looking up at the man he called master, saw as a father. "What about the treasure Malik retrieved from Solomon's Temple?" Al Mualim's smile turned eerie as his fingers danced along the surface of the Apple. "Robert seemed desperate to have it back."

"In time, Altair, all will become clear," the man said, his head raising to see his student. The fear in my heart grew as I saw evil shine within his eyes. "Just as the role of the Templars revealed itself to you," he said, looking back at the Piece of Eden, "so too will the nature of their treasure." He looked up, his hand moving away from the artifact. "For now, take comfort in the fact that it is not within their hands, but ours!" No, Al Mualim, in your hands.

"If this is your desire." I looked back at the assassin, his eyes watching his master carefully. Please, Altair, see that something's wrong.

"It is." And with that, the conversation of the Templars and the Piece of Eden was closed. I sighed and shook my head. "You are restored another rank. Take back your weapon." That was Altair's sword! Of course! I mentally slapped myself when I had forgotten. The master moved away, going to the pigeons he had in a cage by his desk. "Use it to bring honor to the brotherhood."

I saw Altair look at his sword but before him were more throwing knives. These looked better than the ones he now wore. As he quickly replaced them, he turned to leave, perhaps to get some rest or to reflect on what he just learned, Al Mualim turned to him once again. "Altair, before you go?"

The hood turned. "Yes?"

"How did you know I wouldn't kill you?" Al Mualim asked slowly, as if seeking something he already knew.

Altair turned to face his master again, a grin on his face. "Truth be told, master, I didn't. I took a leap of faith." This left his master bewildered as the assassin left, not looking back. I couldn't help but smile, it was amusing to see.

My heart was light again as I felt a huge burden lifted from me. I wouldn't have to keep so many secrets now and it filled me with relief. "Child." I felt my heart skip a few beats as I turned to the master of the assassins. "I must ask since it seems the stubbornness of that boy has prevented my own questions to be answered."

I stepped away from the bookshelf, keeping my eyes lowered. "He performed as an assassin, having killed the Merchant King." Screams of the dead filled my head, causing me to close my eyes. "The rafik must have given you a pigeon saying so."

I heard footsteps draw near before a hand was place on my head. I gasped and took a step back, my eyes wide as I saw rejection on the old man's face. "I see. So, it affected you as well."

Tears welled in my eyes as I nodded, closing them to stop any from falling. "I was there, I saw all of them die." My hands went around me, my nails digging into my arms. "He killed them all, some by poison, the rest by arrows. I don't know how many were like me, who survived." I shook my head, trying to clear the images. "They didn't have to die! That fat bastard! I'm glad he's dead!" And yet, I couldn't stop shaking.

"Do not dwell on these thoughts anymore, child, and do not speak ill of the dead. They will get what they deserve in the next life." Once again, his hand was touching me but as I flinched, it didn't move. "Be at peace, child, these thoughts will leave you and will no longer plague your mind."

I nodded, feeling his hand move away. "Thank you, Al Mualim." I didn't wait to see his reaction, I started off for the gardens immediately. I needed to get away from the old man as quickly as I could, be in a safer place than alone with him in the library. A sick thought passed through my head, making me nauseous as I entered the gardens. I didn't look back, I didn't want to think on what my thought suggested.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

Disclaimer: I don't own AC.

A/N: Thank you for your reviews, I enjoyed them.

"Elisheba, Elisheba!"

I lifted my head up, seeing Mysha running up to me, a huge smile on her face, overly happy about something. She hugged me tightly before backing away, wrinkling her nose in the same manner as before but she merely shook her head, passing it off before tugging on my hand to the pagoda. I supposed this was now routine: I come back, I get clean, and I sit in the gardens until Altair fetches me. Joy.

"There has been so much I must tell you," she said, giggling as she held onto my arm with both of her, escorting me inside the ivied pagoda. "You'll never believe it."

I nodded and looked around. "Probably. Can I bathe while you tell me? I stink and my cycle's finished so I need a good washing." She giggled again, a wise look in her eyes. "What?"

She merely shook her head, leaving the pagoda to fetch the tub and water, if I were to guess. As I slipped out of the shoes, untying the pouch filled with the borrowed jewelry, I could hear the giggles echo out to my location in the gardens. A gaggle of girls, their ages ranging as they neared the pagoda, obviously wanting to talk to me but I think it's to see what I've brought with me since the tinkling of the jewelry could be heard with every step I took. "So, Altair's shadow's returned," one of them says, her snide comment getting a few giggles out of some of the girls. "Still dressed as a man? Does he like that sort of thing?"

My inner fangirl hisses, bristling at the double meaning. "Why would you assume such a thing? Perhaps it's because he doesn't take an interest in you?"

Her pretty face turned sour as she frowned, her dark eyes narrowing. "You foul mouthed leech, how dare you!"

"You're the one throwing insults as if you yourself were an assassin, your words your weapon," I said coolly, noticing that I was treading in dangerous waters.

This wasn't going to end well, I could foresee a cat fight erupting.

The group around her was starting to whisper words to each other, like hissing snakes in Medusa's hair, whispering comforts to the one now glaring at me, while chattering amongst themselves about how it was wise to back up now while they still could. "As opposed to you, pretending to be a man by dressing as one. Tell me, are you often mistaken for one with those small things you call breasts?"

My heart raced in my chest, anger clouding my mind. "You're just jealous that you're stuck her for the rest of your miserable life while I get to leave the walls of Masyaf, see other cities. You stay here, your body pleasing those that enter your midst. You're nothing but a two-bit cheap whore!"

"How dare you!" she screeched, her nails extended and promptly began to claw towards me. I tried to move away but when she was latched onto my hair, pulling hard. I retaliated, trying to kick my way free while her other hand raked down my cheek.

Over my own screams of pain, I could hear the girls crying out loudly, calling for help, for the two of us to quit fighting, and just to be screaming. My own nails dug into the skin holding onto my hair, my feet planted firmly onto the ground as I balled a fist, throwing it fast and hard as it connected with something soft. The grip on my hair loosened long enough for me to move around a bit but not break free. I could hear some voices telling us to knock it off as someone wrapped an arm around my waist, tying to pull me away from the garden girl but with her longer fingers dug into my hair, it wasn't helping.

I tried to elbow whoever was holding me but to no avail, they kept squirming. Another set of nails ran down the back of my neck, feeling cold wash over the fresh wounds. I was sure she caused me to bleed but my rage was too strong for me to care. The hand on my hair finally set free as we were pulled away some more. I could see her fighting to break free, the one holding her back, an assassin, had both of her arms locked behind her as he tried to hold her still. The one holding me tried to grab my arm but I was fighting and squirming too much.

I'll say this though, I finally had enough of him trying to grab me that I finally just turned around and elbowed him in the face. This made him cry out in pain, his hold loose enough for me to slip by, which I did, rushing toward the garden girl again and thanks to her being pinned, I had a free shot. Which I took.

I balled a fist again and knocked it against her jaw. I didn't care if it hurt my hand or if it caused damage to the both of us; I wanted her to feel pain! The bitch grabbed my hair and scratched the hell out of me, she'll pay! Though, once again I was pulled away, this time by two men, each one holding my arms as I screamed and shouted. I was hauled away to one side of the garden, she stayed near the pagoda as the men holding us where shouting for us to calm down.

I felt hot, my anger warming up my body so that I was hot to the touch, that it clouded my thoughts, made me breath heavy. I saw red, I didn't want to calm down, I wanted her to suffer! She landed the first blow, I was merely defending myself! Why should I retaliate? She started it! But still I was dragged away as Alima came running up, badgering the other girl first. The two men kept their grips on me, though one was laughing at the other, mentioning my elbow to his face and I think it left a mark but how much they were nit picking about it. Mysha had stomped over to me, her face red with anger as she glared at me.

For a split second, I was somewhat relieved she was somewhat of a friend because she looked like a tiny little kitten trying to become a lion with that glare. "You didn't have to egg her on."

"She started it!"

"And that gives you the right to punch her?"

I jerked my arms again, growling at the assassins. "Let go!" Moot point since I jerked away from them, but that was besides the point. Glaring at Mysha, I pointed to the one I decked before pointing to my face, which felt like it was on fire. "She did this to me first! She deserves what she got!"

Her soft hands went to my face gently, her eyes traveling over the wounds. "They're not deep. They should heal within a few days." She then clicked her tongue. "You're lucky that they're not deep and that she didn't get your eyes. Though I am surprised that she attacked you so readily. She would have just normally said something nasty and walked away." It was by this time that the two assassins left, having heard enough drama about the gardens. I was calm enough anyways where I didn't need them around. "What did you say to her?"

"I called her a whore." I saw shock in her eyes, fear on her face. "What? She is one!"

Tears welled up in those gorgeous green eyes of hers. "Do you see me as a whore?"

What? Where did she get a thing like that in her head? "No, of course not!" I said, baffled by what she had accused me of. "Why would you even think that?"

Giant tears fell and I felt my heart break. I hate it when I see pretty girls cry, it's so heart wrenching. "Because I'm a garden girl too!" Well, yeah, that's true… "That must mean that you see me as a whore as well!" She then sniffled into her hands as they covered her face, sobs shaking her shoulders.

I felt awful that I made her cry, I don't know how I had done this though. Still, I sighed and wrapped my arms around her, putting a hand to her head. "No, you're not one. You could never be one, you're too innocent," I said softly as I felt her grab on to my tunic, her tears wetting it as she sobbed harder. "Mysha, listen to me, there's no way that you could ever be like her. She's a bitty who is spoiled to the core, who picks fights to get a reaction out of someone just to feel special about it. You're not like her, you're too loving and kind to be as devious as she."

It took a while but the sobs finally faded into hiccups before she finally looked up at me, her big eyes shining still with the tears as she wrapped her arms around my neck, clinging to me close. "Thank you."

Though I was taken aback by the hug, I wrapped my arms around her waist, smiling as I buried my face in her hair. "Not a problem, you goof." What had gotten her in this mood? Surely not the cat fight. For a split second, I felt like a man, my ego swelled as I remembered that I got the last hit in, that I had to be dragged away by two men AND I had gotten him as well. I have to admit, it felt good knowing that I did all that. "Now, why were you so upset by it?"

Mysha pulled away with the brightest smile I had ever seen on her before she grabbed one of my hands, putting it to her lower belly, where her womb would be. "I'm with child!"

…wait…what?

"I had missed my bleedings during the last moon. It was confirmed three days ago," she said, smiling as her hand on mine pushed further into her skin so that I could feel the stiff muscle holding her baby. "I am to be a mother!"

… I was still in a state of shock. How? She's younger than myself, granted, marriage age for girls could have been as young as nine but still! No, strike that, that's irrelevant, for the moment, how? Not the process I mean, I meant how could she? She was wear… no, she wasn't wearing the contraceptive charm anymore. Alima would have made sure she wore it all the time, she's a protective mother like that! "Who?"

"He's one of the brotherhood, a teacher for the younger generations of the novice. He teaches them to read and write as well as some hand to hand combat," she said breathlessly. "Aman is good to me." The soft look in her eyes was one of trust, of love. I prayed that she wasn't going to get her heart broken by this man.

"If you say he is… Congratulations, Mysha." She squealed loudly, launching herself in my arms. "Whoa whoa, first of all, you can't be moving around like this," I said, catching her. "You could… You could lose it." The fear was set in as she set both hands on her belly, nodding solemnly. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise."

"Elisheba!" We both winced. Alima came storming up to me, her face stern as she walked in stiff stomps. For a second, I thought I was looking at my mother as she usually walked up to me in the same manner to scold me. Mom… "You arrive and the first thing you do is start trouble! Has that boy been influencing you child?" She then grabbed my face, inspecting my wounds. "They're not deep, you're lucky." Her hand jerked away as she clicked her tongue. "You, child, are just as bad as a boy. You've set chaos in the gardens and if you were one of my girls, you'd be punished for it."

I lowered my head, shame filling me. Okay, so she wasn't my mother but this woman made me feel like a little kid again.

"I'm going to have a talk with that boy about your behavior. If he insists on having you accompany him wherever he goes, the best he could do is not fight in front of you."

"He doesn't." Alima paused in her scolding to look at me funny. "I follow him, not him dragging me along."

She scoffed, her arms crossing as she bent at the waist to look in my eyes. "And?"

I blushed, getting what she was meaning. "We haven't done anything," I said quickly, turning my eyes away. "I've made it clear what my feelings were to him and that that's all they'll ever be, feelings." I saw something flicker in her eyes, pity? "I follow to find a way back home. He does whatever he likes; he's the one on a mission, not me."

"That doesn't excuse you for the act of violence you've displayed." She then took one of my hands, smacking the back of it as hard as she could. As I nursed my newest wound, I could see fingerprints in it white on lobster red and the color was darkening still. Damn, it stung! "Now come, you smell like horses and I'm pretty sure the two of you have more than a little news to catch up on," Alima said, acting very much a mother that I saw her as. Al Mualim was the father of the men, she the mother of the women, an Adam and Eve in their small rights.

Mysha held onto one arm while Alima tugged on me with the other, sounding like a scorned chicken as she fussed over the fight still, clicking her tongue as she mumbled curses under her breath. It made me giggle, even though I was ashamed by my actions. Once again, I was brought back to the pagoda, a tub waiting on me, empty of course. "Undress, someone will be coming along with the water shortly." Of course, she didn't mention that she was helping me undress, removing my charm from around my neck.

As I took off my tunic, the sounds of footsteps drew near. I had no doubt that it was the other girls, though there was a hand pressed against my back. "You're thin." I wonder why. The assassin diet wasn't doing my body well. I would have to find a day to just stuff myself silly then sleep it off. I needed to get a lot of calories to keep my body up to par. I poked my stomach to see that there wasn't that much fat on it as there once was when I first arrived. I suddenly grew vain and wondered if I did sit ups, would I get a nice belly? Perhaps this diet could help; it's certainly toned my legs so I don't see why not.

"Tell me where you went," Mysha suddenly requested, eager to hear of fantastical tales of the world outside Masyaf. "What was it like, what did you see?"

The images of people dying flashed in my eyes, the screams filling my ears once again. I closed my eyes, trying to get rid of it all but it was so real, I couldn't. Opening my eyes, I looked over to where I had set my pouch, the borrowed jewelry still inside. I couldn't wear them anymore, they should go to someone better than myself. "Look in there, there's a few presents for you and Alima." The older woman's hands on my back paused their movement, searching for wounds I guess.

Mysha picked up the pouch gently, the silver inside clinking together as she opening it up. "Oh wow!" The pulled out the temple bells that went around my ankle, listening to them ring together. "They're pretty."

The tub was slowly being filled, I saw that out of the corner of my eye. Alima wrapped a scarlet sash around my breasts, tying it in the back. "No sense in you running around nude if you don't have to," she said with a nod.

Mysha passed the pouch to me. Sitting on the ground, I dumped it out slowly, the rings and bangles shining brightly. "These were given to me," I said gently, picking up a jeweled bracelet. "I wore them for a day." Kalil had done a great job cleaning them, it was like there never was any blood to begin with.

"How did you get them? Why only for a day?"

I lowered my head, trying not to get upset again but the girl with the arrow in her neck, her haunting eyes clouded my mind. "They were gifts from some girls, much like those here in Masyaf's garden, and I only wore them for a day because that's all I had time with them."

Mysha then picked up my hand, looking at the henna that was started to fade. "Did they do this too?"

I looked down at my arm, the designs that were once so dark against my skin now almost the same shade. "Yeah, they did this as well." I put a hand to the henna, wishing that it wasn't temporary, even though I was never one for tattoos. "We parted on…unsettling terms though."

The pregnant girl in front of me nodded, putting on a bangle and watched as it glittered. "Perhaps you'll see them again." I didn't say anything, merely nodded. She then got a calm and peaceful look on her face before wrapping the temple bells around my wrist. "You can have this. You've given us such gifts, but this is for your kindness." I looked over and saw Alima nod, taking in the sight of another piece of jewelry. For one small moment, I was unburdened with the guilt I carried in my heart. For that small moment, I was forgiven. Though it didn't help that I felt the pain of being spared, it gave me some comfort.

"Take it off, the bath is full." Alima, always in control of any situation. I smiled and did as asked, the silver falling off my skin as it went back into the pouch, my pouch, the only thing I had. As I undressed again and lowered in the tub, Alima looked at me with concern, holding a jar in one arm. "You look like you have questions." How could she tell? "Your eyes." Holy cow! She's a psychic!

I lowered my gaze, looking at my skin through the water, the paleness of my legs weren't as white as they once were. Was I getting tan? "My bleedings, they were later than usual. Does the charm have anything to do with it?"

She shook her head, dipping the jar in the tub, filling it with water. "The charm doesn't touch the moon's flow in a woman." She then gave me a suspicious look. "Has the boy done something?"

Besides plant a fear in me that I didn't have before he slapped me? No. "No, he hasn't. It worries me though, I've never been late before." I bit my lower lip before looking up at her. "I had a teacher-"

"You're educated?"

"Well yes, it's common where I'm from. Anyone can get an education. That's not the point though. My teacher said that changes could affect it. What do you think?"

Alima dumped the jar full on me as Mysha took a hand, rubbing my arm with a sponge. "There are such things that would affect such a thing, however, nothing that I know of would have caused such a change but one."

"I'm not pregnant."

"The charm would have caused a miscarriage if so."

What? Wait, wait, it couldn't. It's a piece of jewelry with no magical properties. It couldn't stop an egg nor terminate a life, could it? I looked at the charm around her own neck and thought about it. Some people are given sugar pills, thinking they were actually taking medicine and the effects were still the same as if they were. Was the charm like that, merely a trick with the mind? Perhaps. I would ask someone but they might think me mad. "You have more thoughts, perhaps they will leave your mind. After you are clean, you can go with Mysha to the river, get more water for this evening. Perhaps your thoughts will leave you with the currents of the waters."

I nodded and smiled, glad that there were people around that I could ask my questions and get some answers, even if they weren't what I was hoping for exactly. After my washings, my hair clean once again, and a shave, oh thank God for that shave, I dressed in my old tunic and pants, the boots returned to me. It was weird, when I asked for the knife that was in my boots in the bath, the two looked at me like I would kill myself but after explaining and showing them what I was doing, they laughed, pointing out other methods to removing hair, mostly a piece of string they tightly weave and set to work at painlessly ripping out body hair. It was amazing, I had never seen such a method before. Perhaps I'll ask them if they show me how to get rid of my leg hair like that.

"Mysha, hand me your jar," I said, after my hair was braided once again, my own jar sitting on my hip. Mine wasn't so big, it was more like a big vase rather than what Mysha had to carry. It was as big as my torso. "Give me your jar, trade with me."

"Why?" She gave me a look of curiosity.

"You're pregnant. Too much heaving lifting could hurt you, the baby, or even… you might lose it." I saw her put a hand to her womb, a worried look in her eyes as she nodded, the two of us switching jars. Deciding to get her mind off of the fear, I distracted her. "Tell me about Aman," I said with a grin.

She giggled and blushed prettily, the red dusting her cheeks, adding to her beauty. "Well, he's tall, a good height for a man, whenever we're together, I have to stand on my toes, him bending over for us to kiss," she recalled, giggling the whole time. Her voice hushed as we entered the library. From the second floor, I saw Al Mualim look up from a scroll, looking at both of us before a paternal smile appeared on his lips. Mysha nodded to him, her eyes closing, I merely smiled back. "He's going to watch us until we return. He's very much like a father, very protective," she whispered. True, he was like a father but it was a bit unsettling knowing that he'd watch us as we left then again as we return. It was like an old bird of prey watching its food before diving bombing to catch its victim, very creepy.

As we left the library, I saw Ra'uf with his students again, barking out orders to dodge or to reprimand one from a folly. "Do not merely hold your blade!" I grinned, watching him but he never turned my way. Ah well, I'll talk to him sometimes soon.

"Go on," I urged my companion. "Point him out if you see him."

"He's a good man. He's loyal to the brotherhood, honest, and oh so strong. He can pick me up with one arm and put my on his shoulder." Her hand went to her belly as she smiled fondly, her eyes half lidded. "He'd be a good father." That smile then fell as tears welled in her eyes. "He would be."

Concern bubbled inside me, my hand grabbing hers. "What's wrong?"

Mysha looked at me with sad eyes, fear and regret in them. "He and I can't be together. When my baby is born, if it is a boy, he'll be taken from me. He'll be raised to be an assassin." She shook her head, her hand twisting to hold my own, squeezing in fear. "I wouldn't be able to see my son or Aman." I stopped us both, setting down my jar and grabbed hers, letting it join mine before I pulled her into a tight hug. I wish I could reassure her, give her some little gem of advise but nothing came to mind, only that it was cruel. "Elisheba, I'm scared."

I closed my eyes tightly, squeezing them as I tried to think but nothing came to mind. I had to reassure her in some way, but I pulled a blank. All I could do for my friend was hold her, hoping that it would give her some comfort. I was scared for her as she was frightened for her future. Was there anything I could do?

Her tears finally ebbed as she tried to pull away from me. "Mysha, listen to me. No matter what, boy or girl, this child is your child, you're the mother, and you have to make that sacrifice of giving your child up for the good of the brotherhood." I tasted bitterness in my mouth; even I hated the words I was spilling out. "You're still that baby's mother; you'd be a part of their life, even if you never see them." I could see her nod and wipe away tears before I finally let go. "Besides, I have a feeling that you'd be one difficult person to have something precious from you be ripped away as simple as that." She laughed sadly, trying to smile. "And I'd be there during the birth, if you want me to be there, and I'd help you fight for your baby."

She picked up her jar, smiling at me. "I want you there. You're like a sister to me, I want you to be there." I smiled, feeling the pain I had suddenly disappear. I had a little sister in this world. Holding my hand again, we returned to walking through the village of Masyaf, more and more civilians around, mingling with the assassins and rafiks. Over the noise of the village, she was smiling happily, her hand holding mine tightly. I was glad I could comfort her.

A group of boys in gray uniforms ran by, a man in white running next to them, silent as the grave, watching them carefully. An instructor maybe? The small fields came up and I remembered boys learning hand to hand there. Once again, they were there, the teacher watching, his arms crossed. As we passed by, his hood snapped up, revealing his face. "That's Aman," I heard from Mysha, her voice breathless and filled with love. He smiled our way. He was a good looking man, a strong jaw, a straight nose, full lips, and like many in the area, dark eyes. I saw some hair peeking out, curling up around the hood. Oh good grief, the pretty boy had curls. I giggled, turning my gaze away as I nodded my approval.

The river banks were covered with gossiping women, many with baskets of clothes to do laundry, others with jars, much like Mysha and I, but almost all were talking about something. I only caught onto bits and pieces, their voices mingling into one. As we went to the river's edge, Mysha let go of my hand, sitting on her knees as she lowered her jar to the water, putting a hand on the lid as the liquid fell inside with a quiet sloshing noise through her fingers. I nodded and followed suit, noticing that we were upriver from the women who were doing laundry. Not to catch the dirt and disgust from their clothes, I guessed.

Mysha hummed a small song, her eyes reflecting the shone from the river. "You're in a good mood."

"You put me in one." I laughed and she joined in, filling the air that was crowded by the other women, their talk sounding like chickens in a yard. "Come on, I think we have enough for Alima's tastes," she said once her jar was full. I nodded, pulling in my jar first, it much heavier than I expected and set it on the bank before I pulled in Mysha's. "Will you be sleeping in the gardens again or will you be in the dorms, like the first night?"

Biting my lip, I gave this some thought. "I think I'll be-" I was cut off by a shout, seeing some women rushing in the waters to try and get something floating away. A blanket? They were screaming about something, as many of them ran down the banks to try and catch it. "Hang on," I said, standing up and giving chase as well.

I wasn't the fastest in the group that was running to get the fabric that escaped but I had something above them: I could swim. Climbing onto a rock, I quickly jumped off the edge, holding my breath as I dove into the water. Over the rush of the waters, I barely heard the women, well, I barely heard anything.

Come on, come on! The current was strong but not strong enough to knock me from my target. The blanket was now in the middle of the river, getting close to the other side before I caught a hold of it. Setting it in between my teeth, I tried to turn and head back to the beach but something large brushed against my leg, pulling me under the waters. I closed my eyes, trying to gain some sort of work against the current, the waters freezing against the cuts on my face. Something warm brushed over them though, like a warm hand and I was suddenly above water again, walking to the beach.

How did I end up from one side of the river, underwater, to above and walking to the beach? I looked back to the river, wondering what the hell happened. "Elisheba!" I turned back, seeing the group of women appear, Mysha with them as she called out to me. The blanket wasn't in my mouth anymore, it was in hand, like I never set it in-between my teeth. "Elisheba, that was amazing!"

"Thank you, thank you," one woman said, grabbing the wet blanket from my hand. "Thank you."

"That was amazing!" I blushed and shook my head, feeling cold from the winds blowing around me. "Ah, let's get you dried before we head back to the gardens." Why? I could walk there without a problem. But as I looked down, I could see the reason. Yeah, cold water, cold winds, and a wet tunic, I could see the problem. I was suddenly thankful that it wasn't white.

I guess that I'd have to be careful from now on. I never noticed that these tunics were thin before and I suddenly blushed. Oh good grief, I was around Altair all the time and … I covered my face as I whined. Wait. Putting my fingers to my cheek, I couldn't feel the pain that would come from touching an open wound. The scratches were gone? How is that possible?


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has been made by UbiSoft.

A/N: Thanks for your reviews. I debated with myself if I should post this up after such a hellish week I've had but I've decided to go ahead. I'm sorry it doesn't have Malik in the chapter; I haven't been up to my usual self thanks to the week. My personal life got in the way and I'm just now getting back into writing. Seriously, I started this chapter on Friday, it was that bad. Still is.

The heavy jar in my arms didn't feel real, I was too busy thinking about what the hell just happened. I dove into the river to get that woman's blanket, cuts from the she-bitch on my face, I come out of the water without any recollection of how I did and the scratches were gone! This was beginning to freak me out, like more so than usual. I was getting a weird feeling in my belly; it wasn't of dread or of fear, more like concern. This was messing with my head too much. First the invisible woman, now the disappearing scratches. What in the world was going on with me? Have I truly gone mad now? Was I only imagining the scratches gone? No, couldn't be, Mysha had asked what had happened to them as well. Why is this happening to me? I'm just one fangirl in the wrong world, wrong time, wrong place, wrong everything!

I didn't belong here.

"Elisheba!" Huh? What? I saw Mysha standing in front of me, her hands on her hips as she was bent from the waist. "I've been calling your name for some time now. Is everything alright?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I think." Whoa, how'd I end up in the gardens already? I either thought so much I never noticed or I was really out of it. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "What is going on inside that head of yours? You've been so quiet since the river."

The river? I hadn't realized that we walked so far, that I was now sitting on a bench in the gardens, overlooking the far mountains, that I had walked that far without realizing any of it had happened. What in the world was going on with me? I think I have lost it, I think that I've gone mad at last. How could I not notice what was going on during that long walk, uphill with a heavy jar? My asthma would have flared up, I would have to have taken a few breaks and my body would feel like it's on fire from the walk. This wasn't possible! "Nothing, I've just been out of it," I lied.

"Out of it? Out of what?"

Oh, lingo, I have to keep that in mind. "It means that I'm either too tired to realize what's happening, lost in my thoughts or a combination of both."

She set a cool hand to my forehead, her own crinkled in worry. "Having you been sleeping well during your travels with Altair?"

I nodded. Now that I think back on it, I've never slept as long as I have since my travels with him. "I'm almost always asleep after sundown and he always wakes me sometime after dawn. I think if the road was boring enough, I'd sleep along the way as well." Well, to be honest, I have but we were sharing a horse then and his back was nice enough to be my pillow. I'm sleeping well and yet, I'm still so tired, as if my body and mind craves something I can't fully deliver. Rest.

Was I dead and therefore, my body telling me that I need to send it to rest? But I'm eating, sleeping, I am alive. Putting a hand to my head, I tried to still these thoughts that swam in it, making me dizzy, confused and scared. I was trembling, unsure of anything anymore. I wasn't dead, my heartbeat, my pulse, it proved that theory wrong, yet I wasn't sure if I was alive, there wasn't proof that I was alive or dead in my time. I'm living inside of a video game, so real; I'm scared of why it is that I'm here.

I have to find a way back but the Apple was in Al Mualim's grasp, far from my own. I turned my head, seeing the fortress as it stood behind me. "Mysha, when do the guards close the gates to the gardens, sealing the library?"

She looked at me, and shook her head. "When the sun has set and the master leaves for the evening."

I've only got this one shot; I can only hope that Al Mualim leaves it in the library. Please, for once, let things go my way, please. I stood from my seat, looking up at the sun as I nodded. I've got a few hours until then. "Elisheba, is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, Mysha." Putting my hand to her shoulder, I smiled as gently as I could. "I'll be back before the doors close," I swore, though doubt lingered in my head. Would I get a change to look at the Apple? I saw her lower her head before shaking it. "What's wrong?"

She didn't say anything, just walked away, as if knowing that something would go wrong, that something would happen. I don't understand, I'd probably never understand but I need the Apple. The woman, the mute, she had signified that the Apple was important. Of course it was, it was a Piece of Eden. I was worried and scared though. What if I wasn't strong enough to use the Apple, what if I couldn't go home? What if there was no way home? No, I can't think that, I have to get home! I'm supposed to go into work, I'm supposed to give my dog a bath, help my brother learn to drive, help out my mother and my father. There's still so much that I had to do.

The feeling of being homesick wasn't as strong as it once was before, but it was still there. I could feel the emptiness eating away at my heart, my soul, my mind. Would I forget my father's voice, my mother's cooking, my brother's scent? Sighing, I closed my eyes, trying to remember it all.

A hand touched my shoulder, startling me into standing, spinning to fend of whatever it was that scared me. I blinked however, seeing the woman standing before me, her sad eyes now filled with a determination. "Who are you?" I whispered to her, as quietly as I could. If she was invisible, I didn't want to be seen as mad. Perhaps I'm already crazy?

She said nothing, typical, only put a finger to her lips, telling me to be silent before the hand stretched itself out, touching my cheek, a weird smile on her face, like she was pleased about something. I didn't ask what, instead, I felt my eyes close, rolling up, darkness encircling me.

-.-.-

When I awoke, I was lying on a mat, the smells of night flowers filling my senses. Above me was ivy, covering the night sky as stars twinkled up at me. Gasping, I sat up and looked around. I was still in the gardens and with how dark it was, I'd have to say it was well into the night, perhaps past midnight. I wasn't sure, there weren't any clocks in this time period, the only way to properly tell time was either an hour glass or perhaps a sundial. I supposed I could make a sundial but there wouldn't be a way of knowing if it was right or not.

I sighed and laid back down, my hands behind my head as I crossed my ankles. How was I to see the Apple now?

Wait.

How did I pass out? I sat up, drawing up a knee to lay an arm over it, my fist to my mouth. That woman, I know she's pulling the strings somewhere, somehow. No one else can see her and I'm not crazy, at least, I don't think I am, so how is it that she knocked me out? She knows something, something about the Apple and I bet that she's got answers to get me back home. Question was, do I even want to go back home?

Sighing, I gave this a good long thought. I'm making friends here, having promised Mysha I'd help her with her baby, not to mention, I want to see this up to the end. Altair's image flashed in my mind. I know he'll be the man every fan knew him as. There was no doubt in my mind that there were some things he had to change about himself but that time is coming soon, I should hope. Malik, I want to see Malik again, to actually talk to him, to know him as I've grown to know Altair. I should hope that I get to ride out with Altair to Jerusalem, if I can convince him to let me go. Besides, he and Malik need to be friends again, there had to be something I could do to help that.

"You're awake." I turned my head, seeing Alima come close to me, putting her hand to my forehead. "Child, what is it that makes you think this hard?"

I smiled faintly, trying to cover up whatever I was feeling. "I'm alright, Alima, please, don't worry over me like a mother hen."

Recognition flashed in her eyes at the words as she sat on her knees. "The boy told you that?" I tried to remember him calling her a mother hen, I suppose he did at some point. "The boy is a real problem sometimes." She then got a distant look in her eyes, a mysterious smile on her face. "There has never been a time when he wasn't a problem."

"I can't picture Altair as a trouble maker," I said slowly. Nope, can't see it, it's like seeing him happy, it's not possible!

She laughed quietly and shook her head. "He wasn't always so serious. But like every man that's become an assassin, they've grown up and will never be a child again." Alima sighed, the look in her eyes suddenly got old, tired, and I saw her face soften. I suddenly got what she meant and put a hand on her knee. She set her hand on mine and for an instance, I felt her pain. A mother of an assassin couldn't have been an easy life.

We had sat like that for some time before she slipped away into the darkness, back to where she had came from, leaving me alone once again. As I curled up, I began to wonder about those back home, with sons and daughters in this very area. Closing my eyes, I felt the soft wind on my person, lulling me to sleep.

-.-.-

The familiar hand on my shoulder told me that it was time to get up. "You shouldn't sleep in here anymore, someone might mistake you for one of them," I heard whispered out.

I nodded, opening my eyes to see Altair looking at something else, something to his side. The sky was barely lit up and he had the nerve to wake me. "You're leaving for Jerusalem, aren't you?"

"It is my mission," he said quietly, turning back, the gold eyes eerily glowing in the not yet dawn's light. "You're to stay here this time."

I sat up and shook my head, my braid brushing against my shoulders. "No, I'm coming with you, Altair," I hissed out, realizing that it was still early in the morning and therefore, people were asleep. "I want to know why it is I arrived in Jerusalem. I'm coming with you." He growled and stood, walking away from me, hands curled in fists. Fine, he can be upset all he likes but my stubbornness and pride will not let me lose this argument. "Walking away? Really?" I'm going to die in a second, watch, just watch. "Stop acting like a coward!"

He stopped and turned to me and my inner fangirl screamed and vaporized on the spot from the very dark, very pissed off glare I was getting. He came within inches from my face, the golden orbs searing into my heart and soul as I could feel hatred ooze off of him. "Never call me a coward," he ground out between his teeth, his strong jaw tensed.

The fear in my heart made me stepped back, my hand curled into a fist. "Then tell me why I'm not coming with you."

He hesitated. For a split second, he hesitated. "You nearly died in Damascus, your nails piercing your skin as if you welcomed death with open arms and now you wish to accompany me to Jerusalem? You are to stay here."

As he turned to walk away, I sighed and shook my head. I had little choice at this point. I lied. "I have my own mission, you know. I'm to keep an eye on you." He froze midstep, his hood turned in my direction. "I had to tell Al Mualim about your last mission, I'll have to tell him of this one as well."

He turned his body halfway to look at me, his eyes flashed and once again, I wondered if he was using his Eagle Vision on me. "Why should he be given word of mouth when he could read a pigeon flown from a rafik?"

I shrugged. "First hand experience, I suppose." Sighing, I crossed my arms, closing my eyes. "Look, Altair, I woke up from an accident, one I wasn't supposed to walk away from, in Jerusalem. I had been there one day before you found me. I'd like to know why it is I'm here instead of home with my family." He didn't say anything but I knew he was thinking. "If it bothers you this much, I'll stay in the bureau this time and help out Malik."

"And you'll want me to find out your little mystery?" he asked, sarcasm laced his voice.

I grinned and shook my head, my fingers lacing behind my back as I perked up. "Nope." He just blinked at me, the look on his face full of confusion before he rolled his eyes, shaking his own head. "Give me a moment and I'll join you at the stables."

He left the gardens without a second word, not even a backwards glance and for a split second, I had a feeling that he'd leave without me. I heard the soft sigh, like someone was behind me and suddenly, I was relieved. I wouldn't be left behind, not as long as I stayed with him. Turning, I saw the three women I knew in Masyaf: Alima with her hand on Mysha's shoulder and the mute woman, her fingers to her lips. Nothing was said, only nods. I smiled, nodded and ran to catch up to Altair.

-.-.-

Okay, so I tried uploading this several times around the appointed time and guess what, that's right, site had a bug and I couldn't log on. So, yeah, late but not my fault.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Disclaimer: I don't own anything UbiSoft has said they own.

A/N: Guess who didn't get emails from reviews as well as updates? This chick right here. Site ticks me off sometimes. Sorry for not updating last week, personal life was in the way again and now it's somewhat resolved, somewhat.

The library was eerily quiet, like tomb quiet and not seeing the scholars walking around, the few guards posted inside to deter any from taking the scrolls, books, and other knowledge filled paper from leaving the premise, but what really creeped me out was the lack of a black shadow. Al Mualim's usual haunt was empty and though I've bumped into him before outside the fortress, it's still so weird seeing it empty in person.

Now that I mention it, everywhere seemed quiet. Was there no one awake? Looking around, I couldn't see anyone walking the roads, no one near the training ring though turning around, I saw two assassins pacing along the edge of the roofline, like guards in the city. Right, night patrol. Technically, though the sun is barely rising, it's not yet morning. Yet the smells of fresh food below makes me second guess myself. Could there be a baker making fresh bread? My stomach rumbled with the thought of food being made, especially fresh. Altair had better feed me.

What I wouldn't give for a pizza. Something so greasy, it'll coat my mouth for hours. No, a burger, with the garden on it, hell, even tomatoes, with hot crispy fries, a tall cup of soda, popping and bubbling, something so tantalizingly delicious, my mouth was watering and I was instantly starving. I kept my mind on food as it distracted me from my walk to the stables. Oh, wait, wait, I got it, a glass of milk, or bottle of clean water, or even a taco, lots of cheese.

I gasped, freezing in spot as my stomach hit me with pain but my mind pre-occupied. Spaghetti with meatballs. I would just die!

"You're slow." Well, there went my fantasies. Altair stood next to his horse, murmuring something to it before his eyes flickered to me. How fast did I walk to get here? I turned to look back at the village and fortress, perplexed and stunned by it. "Turning back now?"

Shaking my head, I turned back, a bright smile on my face. "Not a chance. Besides, I'd get a chance to properly talk to Malik."

The assassin let out a breath before rolling his eyes, tossing something warm at me. "Eat. Your stomach talks more than you."

Oh God, hot bread! Munching happily on it, I put a hand over my mouth to glare at the man. "I can't handle your diet. My metabolism is starving with lack of food," I said over the food in my mouth. His head tilted in the smallest way at the large word, eyes narrowed.

"Spoiled."

"Well-fed, actually." Oh, if only there was butter to put on this. "My mother used to get me to eat by telling me there were others starving for my food. Kind of stupid if you ask me." I swallowed what I had before ripping off another piece. "It's like teaching one to be selfish."

"Could give what you don't eat to those going hungry."

"That's the thing, I didn't know anyone who went hungry," I explained as I finished off the bread. It wasn't a large roll, like a full loaf, but it wasn't small either, like a dinner roll, it was more like… more like a hamburger bun, if I could compare it to anything. "And aren't you being a bit hypocritical?"

He climbed onto his mare, watching me carefully. "How so?"

My own horse nudged at my head as I petted his nose, climbing onto his back before grabbing the reins. If he really wanted to know. "'Please, sir, can't you spare any money? I'm poor and sick and hungry.'" I said in a cockney accent. "Sound familiar?"

He didn't say a word after that as he pulled his reins to make the horse run, his eyes hidden beneath the hood again. I smirked in victory before nudging my heels into my horse's sides, making him run as well. I'd need to name this gentle beast, but the flash of the dark fur that Kadin had made me second guess that choice. Naming would mean that I'd get attached and if something happened to this one like Kadin… I think I would lose it for good.

Perhaps this was a bad idea to ride with Altair… No, I've seen him kill before, right in front of me no less. I'll be alright, I think…

I pretty much debating with myself as we traveled that day, the sweltering heat starting to get to me, like it always does. Some days, I just want to scream out at the top of my lungs due to the crazed heat. What would that do? Absolutely nothing but for a small second, I'd feel better. Thinking back, there were three days from Masyaf to Jerusalem; three days to, three days from. A week to Acre, three days to Jerusalem, two days to Damascus, if I was right. "Hey, Altair." The assassin grunted. "How far is it from Jaffa to Jerusalem?"

The hood looked up at the sky a small bit before it turned my way. "Any reason why you need to know this knowledge?"

I rolled my eyes before I caught my horse up to his so we'd be side by side. "I asked because I'm concerned. There's been talk in Acre about King Richard taking Jaffa, then Jerusalem."

The golden orbs looked at me before he nodded; a bored look on his face. "There will always be talk."

"The king will take Jaffa if he sets his mind on it." A gold eye turned to me again. "The man's ambitious and will complete whatever he has a goal of."

The eye rolled forward once more. "You shouldn't fret yourself over matters that don't concern you." I frowned but knew he had a point. I felt bad that he wouldn't know the fate of the land, that the Third Crusade is one of the world's most recognized stories from a famous English tale? Doesn't it matter? No, I suppose not. Altair never really was one for talk or politics, always strict, stoic, and when it comes to conversation, straight to the point. I smiled faintly as I realized he's a lot of s words. I giggled suddenly but quickly passed it off as a cough when I saw his head turn my way. "If you're sick, turn back."

Frowning, I gripped the reins in my hands tightly as I glared at him. "And lose my way and possibly compromise the Creed should something happen?" Something flickered in his eyes and victory was mine once again.

Wait… Altair's… changed. Something's different about him. Was he changing? My horse whiskered before falling back again, keeping a steady pace as I began to break Altair down once again.

In the beginning, Altair was cocky as hell, brash and rude with no right or wrong for anything. After being stripped from rank, he humbled himself in front of his master as best as he could with that pride of his, acting arrogant with the rafiks of Damascus, Acre, and Jerusalem. Over the course of the game, he grew wise. When is that turning point though? I had a hunch but with the way he's acting now, I'd say he was beginning to see the bigger picture. I tried to remember when events were now, some of them blending together.

It's been so long since I've played the game, since my last day off and now that I'm here, my memory's going fuzzy. Damn. Nothing should be affecting my memory, I just have to concentrate. Closing my eyes, I trusted the beast beneath me on where to go. Remember, Elish- no, Elizabeth, come on, remember.

Something brushed against my arm. Peeking over, I saw Altair offering me the skin, it looking heavy with water. Grateful, I took it, uncorking and drinking some before handing it back. "You're flushed." Was I? "Where's your shawl?"

Did I leave it back in Masyaf? Why is it I'm always leaving stuff in Masyaf? "I left it back in the gardens."

I heard Altair give out a breath before he fumbled in his saddle bag, tossing a cloth at me. "Forgetful."

"Twitcher," I retorted. He glared at me but said nothing, merely urging Anisa on with more gusto. Covering my head, I had the bridal veil feeling before I smiled. I'm winning all sorts of battles today. This must be a good day for me.

However, the rest of the day was dull, boring, and quiet. Not a word was said, not a sound or anything. Altair did turn my way a few times, to check up, perhaps curious as to why I was quiet, I couldn't be sure, I wasn't a mind reader. The night came suddenly and unlike every other night, I actually stayed up a little bit later than usual, laying on my back, both hands behind my head as I looked up at the stars. Why were none of them familiar? Surely they would change thanks to the movement of the earth turning. The rotations would mean that the stars would move as well.

Oh wait. Thinking about it, every night that I looked up at the stars at home, they were always the familiar constellations: Orion, the dippers, Taurus. They'd only be shown at night at home because of the placement at night. By the time that it's sun down here, there are different stars. But the changing of the seasons would also come into effect here due to the earth's rotation as it tilted to and from the sun. I'm suddenly grateful for all the trips to the planetarium as a child and the mini space lessons taught in elementary school.

Sighing, I rolled over and covered my face with my shawl, hiding the fire's light from my eyes. I could relearn the stars later, after I sleep.

-.-.-

The huffing of a heavy creature was by my nose, startling me awake. Sitting up, I turned to face the one who scared me, only to see my horse looking at me with sad eyes. "Ugh, you're worse than he is," I hissed at him, pushing against him muzzle. "Searching for sugar cubes?" Wait. "Did they even have sugar cubes back then?" I muttered beneath my breath as my hand stroked my horse's nose. A huge yawn caught me by surprise, startling him as well because he nodded that large head of his, huffing as he took a few steps back. "You know what, you need a name, so I can simply refer to you as something other than a beast that carries me."

"Glue!" Oh, that was mean of me. "I can't be calling you that; that's just cruel." And yet, I couldn't wipe the smile off of my face. Looking around, the small camp was empty of the male companion but I shook it off as nothing, grateful for the time I had with the horses. Anisa had stepped over to me, her lips feeling out my forehead. "Hey there, girl, what's up?" She was quiet, calm, at peace, and yet, I knew that at a moment's notice, she could run far and fast. Her large eye watched me for a moment before she nudged Glue, (oh God, it's stuck. HA! I made a funny!) at his heavy neck, making him move away. "Oh, and I'm called spoiled, look at this, you're wanting attention." I giggled as I vigorously rubbed her nose, hearing footsteps come up.

I knew who it was so whatever panic I had died down. I wanted to complain to my companion about my sudden hungry but I knew that I'd only get a smart answer back. Looking back at the man, he patted himself to make sure he had everything before nodding my way. Time to go, again.

In two days, we'd be in Jerusalem, in two days, I'd see Malik again. My face flushed as I climbed on Glue, petting his huge neck. Altair said nothing but with how he carried himself, I could tell he was getting impatient. "We could run the horses," I suggested, seeing him look at the horizon, squinting at the rising sun. "We could get to Jerusalem faster, you could spend more time on figuring out what your target will do and where he'll be."

He turned his hood at me and before he nodded, mounting the mare. "The sooner we get to Jerusalem, the better," he agreed, almost quietly. I tilted my head trying to figure him out but instead, he shouted in the air and we were off, like the dogs of hell were biting at our heels.

Through the wind's whistling in my ear, I could faintly hear the sound of people but as I turned my head and looked over at some rocks, I could see another camp not too far from where we were. "Pilgrims," I heard over the wind. "Heading to their sacred city." Muslims, on their way to Mecca, if I were to guess. A part of me wanted to ride with them to see this city but I stayed with that assassin. I wished the pilgrims luck on their journey.

The rest of the day was spent in the scorching heat, the sounds of the hooves did little to distract me. My thoughts entertained me, thinking back on the Apple in Masyaf, on that woman, the silent one. I'd have to hunt her down when we return, to give me answers I deserve. I had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn't a mute, that she could talk. If that were the case, then I'll make her talk, make her tell me everything.

We had passed a small village heading to Jerusalem, I recognized it quickly, realizing that this is where Altair had bought a skin flask of water from. The oasis should be coming up soon then. I made myself a mental map, recognizing places so that I didn't have to rely on the assassin to guide me. I began to wonder though, how many times did he use this way to arrive at Jerusalem? How many of his targets were there, how many missions had he taken in his life? A part of me wanted to ask when he was introduced to the Creed, when he had taken his first leap of faith, when he discovered that he had a second sight, or when it was that he was truly an assassin by sacrificing his finger, but as I wanted to ask these questions as they bubbled up inside of me, sitting on my tongue, I couldn't ask. This was his life, these were personal. True, I could as Kalil or Malik, but would Altair be angry with me that I inquired on his life behind his back?

I shuddered to think that I could be given an intimate introduction to his hidden blade as it dove itself in my neck.

I didn't like being so quiet for so long, it made me feel as if I didn't understand the language again. I didn't want to feel so helpless again. Gathering up courage, I took a deep breath. "Altair?" He grunted. "You said you speak English as well, what else do you know?"

The assassin turned his head to me, the golden hues of his eyes washing over my face before turning away. "You're curious over my education?"

"Naturally. I didn't think many of this part of the world were educated. As an assassin, were you given lessons?"

He nodded. "I can read and write, as many of my brother can. It is important that we learn all of the languages we do speak. When my master was informed of my knowing English, I was taught to read and write it as well." He turned to me then, the horses slowing in pace. "There are some words that I've learned to pick up thanks to the Anglos that reach the Holy Lands. None of it French, as what you know."

I smiled at that. "Perhaps I could teach you." He didn't share my smile, only nodded curtly. "It isn't hard to find English speakers in Jerusalem, however. It's a city of three religions."

"The Hebrew, Christians, and those of Islam."

I nodded. "Do you know any Hebrew?"

"I can speak it only."

"These lessons, why were you taught to read and write the languages you know?"

His face turned to the horizon, towards our destination of Jerusalem. "As a novice, we are given simple missions, infiltration, to pick up documents, shipment lists, orders, perhaps a list of those in the area." His face softened at a sudden thought. "There was a mistake a few times when some of those I had missions with would pick up their holy texts instead, thinking them to be of great importance."

"In a way, they are." An eye rolled my way. "It's good to believe in something, even if it's ridiculous and many don't share the same idea. Religion encourages those to believe that there is a higher power out there, that when they die, they'll go somewhere instead of fading into nothingness." I suddenly remembered. "But you don't believe."

"I do not follow those who believe in God."

"Do you believe in anything? Have hope in anything?"

He was quiet for a second before lifting his head up. "The Creed."

Belief in a brotherhood, in a large group, family like, who will help the world, he had an innocent belief, one he held onto strongly. I nodded, some of my curiosity sated. "Your lessons, were you given many?"

"You ask many questions."

"I'm a curious creature."

Altair eyes narrowed. "Philosophy, science, theology, though I skipped these, geography, then there were field studies: purity of water, where to find it, what was edible and what would be poisonous." He paused for a moment, eyes hard. "Simple medicinal, though nothing further than stitching, applying salve, and bandaging."

I bit my lip in thought. "So, if you were to break a bone, you wouldn't be able to set it?" He shook his head. "That's bad for your body. For obvious reasons as having a broken bone, but also because you could die, depending on how bad the break."

"I'm an assassin, not a healer or a rafik."

This made me pause. "So Malik would know these?"

He nodded. "A rafik cannot deny help to a brother, whether it's a simple place to sleep, healing the injured, food, or information."

Something sad in his eyes made me think. "If you were hurt, Malik wouldn't deny you care. He'd be forced to help you," I said softly. "But you wouldn't get hurt, your pride wouldn't let you ask for help." There, something flashed in his eyes. I was onto something. "Besides, it's not like Malik would help. From what I understand, he dislikes you. Why, I have no idea." That was a lie, I knew why and I know what caused it. There was guilt in his eyes before they hid themselves under his hood. "But if you ask, maybe it'll change." Please, let that plant a seed in the head of his, please let it give him reason to change around Malik.

Altair said nothing, only clicked his tongue, urging the mare faster. The conversation was finished with it but I didn't mind, I was beginning to worry if I had changed something important. Had I not said that, would Altair have asked for help? Would he have changed somewhat around Malik? It was too late for me to know if I altered something, I could only wait for the outcome.

-.-.-

Another evening rolled by and with it, another night without dreams. Ever since my dream of home, I've yet to dream again and it worried me. Before, it didn't because I never noticed and now that I had one dream, I'm expecting to have every night to be filled with them. Glue beneath me shook his head suddenly, rearing up, the mare doing the same. Ahead, maybe a mile or so off, were the trees of the oasis, but beneath us, what made the horses rear back was a viper who suddenly lashed out at their heels. The hood spread in worship as it rose up, tongue flickering out like lightning. I clicked my tongue, moving the reins for us to go back but Altair held his ground, dismounting from the mare. "Are you insane? That thing could kill you!"

But the assassin said nothing, not even reaching for a blade as he stepped closer. The snake drew back a little, the head poised for a strike. "Altair!" The assassin then crouched and reached a hand out, wrapping his fingers around the body of the snake. I expected the thing to bite the man but instead, nothing. How the hell did he do that? He stood and turned my way, holding up the snake in a careful grip, the head now facing me. "How did you do that?"

I wish he had said something but his eyes stayed under the hood before lowering his arm, the snake sliding down, back to the ground beneath us, slithering away. I watched the trail it made, making sure to give the snake a wide berth. Where had the snake come from? There wasn't any rocks around for it to hide under and Altair would have seen the snake first, making sure to move away from it, so that was just plain weird. Looking over at the assassin, I began to wonder, well, more so than usual.

"Half a day's ride to Jerusalem now," he called out before making the mare run.

Half a day to Jerusalem, half a day to Malik. My heart sped up as I hollered out in the wind, catching up to the assassin.

-.-.-

There will be a second chapter up after this, later today.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed, that is sole right to UbiSoft.

A/N: I had some good inspiration and lots of ideas with this, as well as looking up research so it would be better, hopefully.

The wind whistled in my ears as we rode hard to the city of Jerusalem, passing by small caravans, lone riders, and the occasional camel. I have to admit, I actually slowed to look at the camel. I had never seen one up close and personal before, not even at a zoo! Of course, when it made that low growling noise, I rushed on, not wanting to be spat on. That would suck if I got spat on, I'd probably gag and vomit on the spot.

Up ahead, the city walls of Jerusalem began to stand out as a golden dome sparkled in the sunlight. A long line of pilgrims had emerged from the city and the thought of people dominos came to mind. It was a fun sport for me and other gamers, after all, nothing was funnier than to run into a bunch of NPCs in front of the great city. I snorted and giggled, my inner fangirl crying out "DO IT! DO IT!" but I followed Altair closely, keeping the urge in check, the smile however wouldn't leave. The small bazaar in front of the city weren't as loud as the souk in Damascus was but it wasn't as quiet as the stalls in Masyaf. It was like they were making sure everyone who left the city had what they needed for their trip, as it would probably be the last time they could get supplies for some time.

Reaching the stables, I had spotted a girl with a scarf carrying a basket of brushes to a man who was brushing down a pretty spotted horse, grooming its coat until it shone in the afternoon light. The two had spoken quietly before the man pointed at Altair and me. It struck me as odd that a girl would help around the stable but I saw a resemblance between the man and her, the shape of their eyes, full cheeks and nose, they were family. The man might not have a son. The girl took the reins from us as we dismounted.

"Welcome back, sir," that groomsman had said, his face beaming at the assassin. The girl began to pet the mare and in turn, the mare lipped at an exposed ear. I smiled at the two, my hand on Glue's neck.

Altair's head tilted forward in a nod. "Safety and peace," he said in return and pressed a coin to the girl's hand. Where'd he get the money? "That should cover the expenses."

The man nodded, taking the coin from the girl but by the time he had fished out a different coin, Altair was already gone. "Ma'am," I heard and looked down. The girl was holding out the coin to me. "Your man's change."

Why didn't the stableman just give it to me himself? I looked over at him but his eyes were cast down. OH! I looked back at the girl and shook my head. "You keep it. And tell your father thank you for me, will you?" The girl nodded and rushed back to her father, hold out the coin now in front of him. I took a leaf from Altair book and left before they could say anything to me. The assassin had waited for me by the gate, keeping his eyes on the guard. "You're a frequent customer."

"He is loyal and trustworthy. It is not his first time stabling horses for a brother." His eyes washed over the stalls before ushering us on. The guards weren't as thick as they were when we left Jerusalem last time but they were just as weary. "They've been told of me," he muttered, his voice in a deep whisper that sent chills up my spine. "Do nothing that will get you caught."

I nodded, keeping my eyes to the ground. The guards had let us by, but I heard whispers about the heavily armed monk and the heathen woman , all in hisses. I let this roll off me, I'm not from this area, this time, this world, these insults have no effect on me.

We entered Jerusalem in the rich district, this I knew by remembering some of the buildings we had passed last time. Already I could see many with rich robes on, an air of snob around them, but in smaller groups, men in black, hardly an dust and dirt on the material, in a small arc, hands holding onto books. The nodded to each other, their words foreign in my ears. My mind recognized them immediately, my eyes moving from them back to the ground. A woman laughed gaily as she chatted with a stall owner, the two discussing a rather impressed bauble. There didn't seem to be anything wrong, they were living life to their fullest in the one way they knew how, by showing off how much they had.

Someone bumped into me hard and as I reeled around to see who, I saw someone looking t me with sad eyes, bowing their head many times in apology while holding what looked like a large leaf over a woman's head. My heart sank as I nodded back, keeping pace with Altair. The assassin looked over at me before nudging me with an elbow, nodding to an alley. Nodding to him, I followed, keeping in mind that there were groups of guards in alleys as well. Passing through the arch that separated the main road from the back doors of some homes, I caught a flash of red out of the corner of my eye. "Altair." There, in the corner, away from view of the public, arms crossed, stood a Templar knight, guarding a chest, locked with a heavy bronze padlock. The chain mail looked dull under the fabric, the helmet scratched and scarred; the knight has seen battles and lived to tell the tale.

The assassin's eyes narrowed as he looked around, perhaps for an opening. I couldn't understand why he didn't just climb up a building to do an air assassination, but then I mentally slapped myself. That technique wasn't known, not yet at least. Altair pointed to a bench some ways away, in the public eye. "Stay there."

I nodded, leaving him to kill the Templar knight by himself; I didn't want to see this fight. The bench wasn't too far from where I had left the assassin but it was far enough to not see the fight between mortal enemies. I could make out the dust and dirt that bellowed out from the scuffle, every once in a while seeing a flash on a wall, a reflection from one of the swords or a heel from a foot. Those that sat by me weren't paying attention, their interests lying with either news from their family, political news, or just how their day went.

"They say he's getting closer…"

"…for two chickens!"

I tried to tune them all out, keeping focused on the dust cloud as it settled. The fight was over, fear running through my veins as I thought of who would emerge the victor. I had trust and faith in Altair, I knew he wouldn't succumb to death that quickly but I did remember how hard it was to beat the Templar knights whenever I ran into one. My fears were put to rest though when I saw Altair come out, sheathing the sword at his waist, blood covering his bracer. He looked my way and motioned with his head to follow. Rising from the bench, I was thankful to be away from the gossip of people, already tired of their talk.

Altair didn't look hurt, though I saw a bruise forming along the side of his face, his breath shallow. "Are they broken?" He turned an eye my way. "Your ribs."

Eyebrows furrowed as the eye narrowed. "You were watching?"

I shook my head, looking back from where we came. "I've seen the way they fight, it's not uncommon for them to knock against their opponent's ribs." He didn't say anything, but the frown tugging on his scarred lips told otherwise. "So, are they broken or not?"

"No," he replied curtly, tensing his jaw. That'll hurt him later on in the day so I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't talk too much. As well walked on, I could hear heralds calling out, not praising the English king or Saladin, but merely crying out about the city and how it is well loved. I guess with a city this large filled with this many people on both sides, there's got to be some neutral ground somewhere.

Nearly running into the assassin, I noticed we had stopped to a familiar ladder. Around, people on benches were speaking softly before a shadow covered me for a second, causing me to look up. I barely missed the red and white of an assassin before he disappeared from view thanks to the roof. "Malik makes sure his men are training when they're not on a mission," Altair explained as he motioned over to the ladder. Of course, he didn't wait for me, he instead chose to climb the wall, hauling himself up.

Prick.

Still, I quickly climbed the ladder, seeing the crest of the assassins, the one on my ankle seeming to be a badly drawn replica of the great emblem. Beneath me was Malik and I was as nervous as I once was the first time. It felt so long ago…

Altair waited before dropping below, I think just to make sure I was alright. Of course, I followed suit, though I lowered myself by hanging onto the grating rather than risk a broken ankle. The pigeons fluttered for a bit, startled by the two of us arriving as they warbled their complaints. Rats with wings. They're as bad as gulls though I do have to admit, they are useful.

The assassin walked into the bureau and already, I could tell this was something I wouldn't want to me. Malik was writing something down on a piece of parchment, the a gentle cloud of smoke rising from the incense burner, though the scent was unfamiliar to me. He didn't seem to notice us but I knew that he did. "Safety and peace, Malik," Altair said, walking into the bureau. I stayed in the doorway, leaning against it to watch.

Malik lifted his head, regarding both Altair and myself before his eyes turned back to the one he saw as a novice. "Were that the city was possessed of either." He looked over at me with those dark eyes of his, nodding his hello. I nodded back, a smile on my face. As he turned back at Altair, he got a sour look on his face. "Why do you trouble me today?" he asked returning to the parchment.

"Al Mualim has marked Maj'd Addin for death." Malik nodded, putting away the parchment. "What can you tell me about him?"

"Saladin's absence has left the city without a proper leader and Maj'd Addin has appointed himself to play the part," the Dai said, his hand waving to a wall, speaking of the target. He then curled the hand into a fist. "Fear and intimidation gets him what he wants; he has no due claim to the position."

Altair nodded. "That ends today," he said confidently.

Malik frowned, eyebrows furrowing. "You speak too readily!" he said, a bite in his voice but no anger. "This is no some slaver we are discussing; he rules Jerusalem and is well protected because of it!" he said, voice a little louder as he pointed a finger to the assassin before him. "I suggest you plan your attack carefully, get to better know your prey." This sounded creepy, it was like he had a wicked smile on his face.

Altair's eyes glanced over to me and I knew then that he was taking my words to heart. "With your help I will." Malik blinked, confused by the sudden trust thrown at him. "Where would you have me begin my search?"

The Dai sneered, amusement in his eyes. "What's this? You're actually asking for my assistance instead of demanding it?" He took a step back, hand on his hip. "I'm impressed."

Altair flashed a glare my way then turned back to Malik. "Be out with it!"

"As you wish," the Dai said, the smile still not gone as he pulled out a map. "Here's where I'd look: first, to the southwest near the mosque," he said, pointing to a position on the map. "After that, head south." His finger slid down the map's page. "There are two locations that might interest you: the southernmost church is one, the other in the streets, near a synagogue."

Altair nodded, looking at the map carefully, turning heel to walk away. "Thank you for your help, Dai," he said in a soft tone. I wasn't sure but I thought I heard respect in his voice.

"Don't foul this, Altair!" Malik called after him, returning back to the map to get it off the counter.

Altair pulled on my sleeve as he walked past, a heavy glare my way. As we entered the courtyard, Altair hissed out a whisper to me. "I've done as you asked and was mocked for it."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Yes, but he didn't insult you, nor did he yell." Altair turned his eyes way as he thought about it. "Go, get information on your target, I'm staying here." The assassin wasted no time staying around, he quickly climbed up the wall, pulling himself up from the grating and ran off. I nodded to myself and removed my shawl, returning back to the bureau. The Dai glanced up but said nothing as he filled out a page of a page as he copied something out of another, the pages old and wrinkled. "Safety and peace, Malik."

Malik's hand paused as he looked back up at me, curiosity in his eyes. "Safety and peace, Elisheba," he said, almost unsure if I understood him. I smiled at his uncertainty. "You speak this tongue now."

I nodded. "Yes, Al Mualim taught me." It wasn't a lie but it wasn't the full truth. "It has been a while."

Malik nodded, returning to the book. "A month and nearly two weeks." Has it really been that long? "Why are you here?"

"I now travel with Altair." I looked around his bureau. Nothing much has changed, well, a few books are out of place and there's a sword missing but nothing else. My eyes fall to the cushions I had slept on and I felt my heart flutter. Why had he kept those out? My mind turned to the other assassins that would pass through, nodding at the obvious answer.

The book closed and was pushed away before the arm went onto the counter, holding up his weight. "Why are you here, in my bureau?"

Worry and panic flew over me as I thought he would kick me out like the rafik is Acre did. "I'm safer here than I am in the city, especially should Altair alert a guard," I said as if it was obvious. "Besides, I figured you'd might like some company."

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not a cripple, I don't need help." Ah, men and their prides.

"I wouldn't help out unless you asked, Malik. I've seen you around the bureau last time, I know you can take care of yourself." This made him sit up a little. "You're not a child who needs coddled all the time." I sat in the cushions, looked at him the whole time. "But should you need any, just tell me."

The Dai shook his head. "You're a strange woman." He pulled out another piece of parchment, writing something down quickly. "How long will you be traveling with him?"

"Until I find a way home. Who knows when that will be," I sighed, pulling my legs close. I saw him raise an eyebrow but he didn't ask any questions, only watch me for a minute before he scribbled something off. "What exactly do you do all day?"

I could see irritation tick in his eyebrow, as if he was wondering if I would be one of those talkative people, like an annoying child always asking questions over every little detail. "I work."

Alright, point taken. I nodded, folding my legs to sit in what I was taught as Indian position, my hands on my ankles. I would have stayed like that, had something not brushed again my leg. Looking down, I saw a tan little fluff ball with ears. "You have a cat?"

"It followed me one day."

The little thing looked up at me with large greenish and mewled before rubbing its head against my knee. "Never pictured you as a cat person."

"It followed me one day," he repeated, looking up, clicking his tongue as his lips made a kissy motion. The kitten looked up at him and mewled again. I giggled and his eyes moved up from the kitten to me. "It followed me the day after Altair's previous mission." The day after I left. Nodding, I looked back at the kitten, wiggling a finger above its head so I gained its attention. "It torments the pigeons."

Giggling, I watched as small claws reached up, trying to swipe at my fingers. "Are you a little bully?" Grabbing it but the scruff of its neck, it made a noise of complaint but then went silent as its tail curled up on its belly, drawing its hind legs up. It was held as a small kitten by its mommy. "Hold still now." Lifting up a lip, I saw a row of tiny teeth, sharp and pointy, then checked its ears. No ear mites, that's a good thing. "Do you feed it?" I moved away the tail and saw what I was looking for. "Him, do you feed him?" Malik lowered his quill, watching the two of us as I lowered the tom on my lap, scratching his ears. Of course, he didn't say anything which suggested that he has been.

"Congratulations, you own a cat. Good luck with the fleas and presents of dead animals where you place your feet when you wake up. Oh and the fur; you'll never have anything black again." I peered up at him to see him crinkle his nose. "But you have yourself a companion, something you can talk to without them blabbing your secrets." The kitten purred as I rolled my knuckles under one of his ears.

Malik shook his head. "He's already been more trouble than his worth, scaring the pigeons, paw prints over my maps." I giggled, checking the kitten's paws to see black in some of the fur. "He's a menace."

I made a clicking noise, the kitten flipping over onto his back as I wiggled my fingers above the kitten. "He's just a kitten; it's a stage that all kids out grow. I'm sure you and Altair were trouble makers when you were children." I felt claws dig into my hand, scratching at my wrists as teeth dug into my fingers. "Hey!" Pulling my hand away, I hissed as I shook my wounded hand.

"Trouble maker," I heard Malik chuckle before he stepped out from behind the counter, walking past, startling the kitten to scurry off to a corner somewhere. Looking at my wrists, I saw that the scratches weren't too deep, that the skin that hung off was thin. Picking it off, I barely missed the familiar black robes come back into view, a hand pulling on my wounded one. "Let me see."

I felt my cheeks flare as heat rose up my neck. I watched as Malik wiped away what little blood there was, the cloth set aside before two fingers dipped into a jar, coming up slick with salve. My inner fangirl threw up dirty images that would have been nice to ponder over, had the fingers not pushed against wounds. I hissed in pain as the burn from the salve flared against my nerves. "That hurt."

He rolled his eyes. "It's supposed to, that means that it's working." I smirked and watched him work, every once in a while to glance up at him but he was only watching what he was doing.

When the scratches were covered in the salve, Malik pulled away, going back to the back room. "You didn't have to," I called out, holding onto my hand. "I would just normally leave it."

He appeared once again, setting down a skin near me and dropped an apple in my hand. "You get hurt often?"

"When I was little, yeah. But ever since I've started to travel with Altair, I'm hurt somewhere." He nodded, going behind the counter. "In Acre, I skinned a knee thanks to a bird scaring me. In Masyaf, I was in two fights, one of them left me with a bruise, the other, claw marks."

"A brother hit you?"

I looked up at him, seeing concern in the Dai's eyes. I had to lie again. "No, a garden girl."

"You were in Damascus as well." Kalil, I had forgotten.

I lowered my gaze, hearing the screams of the dying once again. "Self-inflicted."

We didn't say anything for a long time after that, the sounds of his quill scratching out something on parchment and the occasional mewl from the kitten before the fluttering of the pigeons. I have to admit, I don't agree with the kitten playing with carrier pigeons but it was somewhat funny to hear

And it was the longest I had gone sitting down in a room without doing anything. It was a comfortable silence, only having it be broken by a bell followed by murmurs. "What time is it?"

Malik looked out at the courtyard. "Noon. The Muslims are in prayer now."

"Are you a Muslim?"

He hesitated before turning back at me. "I believe, yes."

"Then why aren't you in prayer?"

He lowered the quill, giving it some thought before returning to his work. "My belief in Allah isn't controlled by prayers."

Once again, I would have answered, had a shadow not passed over the bureau's walls and a heavy thud was in the courtyard. I expected Altair, but it was too soon, he wouldn't have completed his mission in time. It was an assassin, covered in white robes like Altair though he didn't have the proud stature that Altair had. Though as he walked into the door, I felt my heart skip a beat.

It was the masked assassin, Ibraheem. "Safety and peace, Master Malik." His gaze then turned my way and I saw his eyes harden. "You!"


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-Six

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that UbiSoft has created.

A/N: Hey, thanks everyone for your reviews, they were awesome. And yes, I ended last chapter with a cliff-hanger, I know, I'm evil. Also, I may move the update day and time due to summer. If you think I should, say so in your review, should you review. Any suggestions would be nice, I do take into consideration that there are some of you who go to church on Sunday and can't stay up every Saturday night for an update. And because this chapter is late, you're getting two chapters this weekend.

My heart froze as my breath caught in my throat.

"What are you doing here?"

I blinked once, twice, before standing up, glaring over at the assassin. "Why should I tell you?"

His eyes darkened under the hood as he reached for a knife. "You will tell me now or so help me-"

"Enough!" We both jumped, having heard Malik shout at the both of us. "Stay your blade, she is an innocent!"

Ibraheem turned his head to the Dai, fingers curled around the hilt of a throwing blade. "Her? An innocent? She's a whore from the gardens!"

I wanted to screech at him but Malik's dark eyes drifted my way before I could even inhale to do so. "Go in the back," he said, voice stern but it held no bite. "Go." Exhaling a breath I didn't realize I was holding, I went past the doorway into the back rooms of the bureau, not really sure where I should go. I knew of the toilet area that was in one of the rooms, small really, like a closet, but the other three were closed off. One had to be storage, I knew Kalil had a storage area in his bureau as well, one, I guessed, was Malik's private bedroom, but the other? Was it another bedroom? A far door down the hallway reassured me that there was an exit, as there was light shining through the bottom of the door.

I didn't have time to ponder about the other rooms because I could hear both sets of voices, both of them harsh as they barked at each other. As I turned my head, wondering if I should be near the door to listen in, I saw the kitten dart past, going to a room to curl up by the closed door. My heart went to the frightened animal, wanting to keep the tom safe. Opening the door, the cat brushed past the wood, disappearing from sight. Looking back at the doorway I had come from, I noticed a dark shadow cover it, startling me as well.

A cloth was moved in front of the doorway, perhaps to block out the rest of the conversation, but it also meant I wasn't allowed back into the bureau. That was fine by me. As long as that masked man was there, I wouldn't be anywhere near him. Nodding to no one, I followed the kitten before turning and shutting the door, the voices now a low muffled noise. A strong scent filled my nose as I turned, looking for the feline as I saw a large bed, fit for two people. I was in Malik's bedroom…

I wanted to giggle, to snoop through his things but biting my lower lip, I drove these thoughts away. The bed was plain, having a thick looking blanket over what looked like an old mattress, one I was sure was made of hay but after touching it, I realized I was wrong. This was soft, like, pillows soft. Down maybe? Looking around the room, I could see a small alter against a wall, an incense burner on it, an etched knife, and parchment. I smiled at the burner; the man likes smelly good smells. The knife could be for protection, or perhaps it was merely decoration, or did it have significant value to the Dai? The parchment was all in Arabic and I knew that it would be a waste of my time trying to read it.

Along another wall was a bookcase, the top two holding books and scrolls, the shelf in the middle bearing clothes, robes, and a small stone box while the lower two shelves were boxes only. The stone box had some sort of inscription on it, one I didn't know so I thought it best to leave the box alone. It wasn't mine so I had no right to touch this. Drawing away from the shelf, I could see that the feline had jumped onto the bed and was currently doing the Velcro thing, pulling up at the mattress to make it comfortable then he began to spin. "Oh no." Picking up the kitten, I held him close, burying my nose in his fur. "I don't know if you sleep with Malik but at least let me make the bed."

The tom mewled as I let him jump to the ground. Hey, if he wanted down, who was I to stop him? Grabbing the blanket on the bed, I felt the softness of it, how smooth it felt. Frowning, I stared at the stitches wondering how in the world someone got tight stitches that resembled machine stitch. True, there were looms out that but I didn't think that they could be able to get such a close stitch that there would be mistaken for machine. Shaking my head from the thoughts, I pulled the blanket from the bed, seeing that there were pillows underneath, suggesting that he either held onto them in his sleep or he needed support. I got dirty images in my head that made me giggle and blush furiously.

Taking these pillows as well, I set them on the ground, shooing the kitten away from them, just to make sure he didn't fur them up, I grabbed the blanket again, shaking it out before I threw it over the bed, going around it to make sure that it covered the whole bed completely before going back, setting pillows at the head of the bed. Alright, so I was lazy and didn't make it in a pretty way, at least the bed was made. It was then that the kitten decided to claw his way up my leg, my hip and travel along my spine to rest on my shoulder, the whole time digging those sharp, pointy little claws of his in my skin. "That hurt. What am I, your personal scratching post?" I was pretty sure I was bleeding somewhere. "You better not give me fleas, cat."

The kitten mewled, rubbing his head along my jaw. Alright, I admit it, the cat's adorable, but it was so touchy feely. It was weirding me out entirely. I've never known such a demanding cat before. Still, I had to admit, he was beginning to grow on me. "I don't think Malik ever owned a cat in the game before," I muttered, my hand reaching up to pet the furred beast. "I hardly know the man personally. Everything I know about him is from the game and my geeky research." Picking the cat off my shoulder, I sat on Malik's bed, the kitten now resting on my legs. "You're perhaps the only one I can truthfully talk to, kitty. This feels so real, your fur, the heat of the camp's fire, water, food, even pain. But I don't get it, this is supposed to be nothing but bits of data encoded into a computer disk." The cat rolled over, moving to one of Malik's pillows. "I'm worried though. If I can see and touch everything here, where does that lead Desmond?"

"It's supposed to be his memory so wouldn't I be altering that somehow? Would he see me in the Animus or will I be deemed unimportant and passed off as another NPC?" I frowned, interlacing my fingers as I set my elbows on my knees. "But then, what if I'm not inside of a video game, what if all of this is real? How do I get home?"

Desmond Miles would be captured by Abstergo in 2012 and would be forced into the Animus to view the memories of Altair, but I'm in Altair's life now. I travel with him, I watch him fight, breath, move, hell, I've seen the man bathe! But would Desmond see me? I suddenly felt very vulnerable now and felt as if I should watch my every move just in case. I've already slipped by saying Ezio's name aloud; I can't afford to make any more mistakes. No, I have to keep things the way they are, I can't let my stupidity cause something catastrophic. Think, Elizabeth, think. Should I continue to travel with Altair, to return to Acre, Damascus, and Jerusalem with him? Or do I stay in Masyaf where I'm still an outsider but I wouldn't have to worry about being killed. Or do I run as far and as fast as I can to the first ship going to England to make sure I don't screw anything else up?

Wait, wait, that's if I'm stuck here. I can't worry about a what if, I need to figure out a way home. The Apple, it's a piece of Eden so it could help me get home. But what if I can't wield it? Would I never see my family again? Oh God, I hadn't thought of them in a few days! The pain of being away from home, the sickness, it's not as strong as it first was! Was I growing accustomed to being torn from them? Was this pain now something I'm no longer troubled with? Fear and anxiety filled me as I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to remember everything. My parents are my best friends; the both of the smokers, the both of them always trying to give my brother and I a good life. My younger brother is now taller than myself, a heart breaker. Oh God, what did their voices sound like?

Groaning, I laid back on the bed, my arms over my eyes. "Why me? Why was I put here? I'm not anything special. Sure, I'm a fan, but come on, I'm just one girl. Why not have someone who dresses up or someone who actually knows the characters and can help out in any way?" Sighing, I curled up on my side, my legs now on the bed as well. "I'm grateful that I have a chance to meet with Altair, Malik, and to even be here but why me? I don't even have a console to play it on!" However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized why I was there. "Cosplayers would want to help out in any way that they can and more of the avid fans would spill the storyline, would mess up history, but that still doesn't explain why me."

The kitten only purred in his sleep. "Thanks for your help."

I miss being home and not dealing with all of this stress.

-.-.-

It was getting hot, almost too hot. I was sweating and there was something suffocating me, something fluffy with tickling my nose and the whole time, it was vibrating. Finally cracking open an eye, I saw the thing tickling my nose was a tail and the kitten was laying on my neck, asleep. Moving the blanket off of me, I picked up the kitten and set him next to my head as I sat up. Oh geez! Sneezing, I felt my back tense up before I sneezed again. The kitten was awake by this point, his back arched high, tail fluffed, ear back as he glared at me with his large yellowy eyes. "Well, maybe if you weren't trying to kill me, maybe you wouldn't have gotten scared."

The tom said nothing, only lowered his back for just a small fragment, as if he understood. Looking around, I realized that I had fallen asleep in Malik's room, more specifically, on Malik's bed! And I was covered up by a blanket! Who covered me up, again? I'm grateful that people are covering me with blankets while I sleep but it's beginning to frighten me by how often it happens.

Perking up my ears, I strained them to listen for anything out of the ordinary but instead, I'm met with silence. I didn't know how I should take it. "Is Altair back?" Getting off the bed, I yawned and stretched, Malik's scent filling my senses, a blush staining my cheeks. I can't believe I slept in Malik's bed. "I'm pretty sure I'd be killed if other fans found out about this…"

Standing, I grabbed the blanket and quickly folded it, setting it on the bed before I left the room. Why was I so tired? I've never slept this much, ever! Every night, I'm asleep sometime after sundown, every morning, I'm up at dawn and I take so many naps now, one would think I wouldn't need to sleep so early. The blanket over the door was pulled aside and I was surprised by what I saw. The bureau wasn't as empty as I thought it was, but instead was filled with three assassins and, of course, Malik. Two of the assassins were wearing robes like Altair's but their sleeves weren't white and the other was dressed in the same style but no sleeves all together, the scars on his arms prominent. The two assassins with gray sleeves were busying themselves over a game of chess, one with his hood down, dark shaggy hair with a hand under his chin waiting for the other to make a move. His opponent had what looked like a single dark stain on his left shoulder, an old stain from a wound?

Malik, who was bent over some book, looked up and nodded to me. "You're awake." The sleeveless assassin lifted his head at me from an old scroll he was reading, his back and foot against a wall while the assassin with the stain turned his head.

I flushed with embarrassment, lowering my eyes. "Yeah, sorry about that…"

The two at the chess muttered something to each other before returning to their game. The one leaning against a wall suddenly smirked, rolling up the scroll and setting it on a shelf. "Well, well, have you been hiding her, Dai? I didn't know you had taken in a wife." My whole face was on fire from that point and looking over at Malik, I saw a flush on his face as well before he threw a knife at the assassin. The assassin laughed and dodged the knife quickly as it buried itself in the wood of the shelf where his head was, setting a finger on the handle as it vibrated with how much force Malik threw. "I was only joking, Dai."

The one armed Dai narrowed his eyes at the sleeveless assassin. "Go and wait for Altair to set Ishmael free. All of you, go!"

The two at the chess board grumbled, following the orders. All three left through the courtyard, their shadows dancing over the wall. I blinked and looked over at Malik, seeing that he was flustered. The kitten jumped onto the counter and sat down on the scroll, looking up at Malik. The man looked down at the kitten in return, a hand on the tom's head. "Foolish."

Going to where the knife was thrown, I was surprised by how deep it was embedded in the wood. I guess that Malik kept practicing even after gaining a disability. With some difficulty, I pulled the knife free and whistled. The knife had made a huge notch in the wood that was deep, one that I was pretty sure would have reached the back of the piece of wood without any problem. Moving away from the shelf, I held the knife carefully in my hand, trying to figure out how in the world he had done that so fast and with that much force.

Oh, right, he was an assassin before he became a rafik.

Going to the counter, I had saw that the kitten had climbed up Malik's arm and was currently climbing his way into the empty sleeve. I wanted to say something but I didn't want to come off as a pushy and I didn't want to make it seem as if I wasn't sensitive to what had happened. Instead, I set the knife on the flat surface, seeing the kitten curled up as a lump on Malik's shoulder. "Does he always do that?"

Malik's eyes went from the parchment in front of him to the now lump on his shoulder. "Whenever he isn't resting there, he finds a wall to sleep against my stomach."

"How?"

"I never know until I'm pulling him away." I giggled and sure enough, the kitten fell into the empty sleeve. I expected to hear a rip or tear, perhaps even hear Malik grunt, but instead, he sets a hand to his shoulder, undoing the sleeve and letting the kitten roll to the wrist as it's set on the counter. "He does this constantly."

I reached over, taking the empty sleeve in hand and opened the wrist, seeing the kitten look out at me. "He likes you," I said, peeking over at Malik.

His lips rose a fraction, not really a smile but just enough to soften his face as his hand went to the lump of kitten, stroking it to hear the purrs. "I admit: I've grown fond of him myself." Smiling, I let the wrist fall, sealing the light from the kitten so that he could sleep. "If only he'd stay away from the pigeons."

Giggling, I shook my head, scratching the lump where the ear was. Our fingers brushed together before we pulled away, as if touched by fire. Now blushing, I kept my eyes low as I back away from the counter, trying to break away from the awkwardness. I heard Malik clear his throat before the scratching of quill on paper filled my ears.

It was then that I heard a bell toll and it scared the crap out of me. I jumped, setting a hand to my heart before laughing at my jumpiness. The bells continued however and it worried me. Lifting my head to the ceiling, I began to worry. It was the signal of danger, it was the bells of alarm, one I have heard so many times. Altair's killed his target and is currently running to safety, but I began to wonder if he had made in time to save all four of those who were trapped by the man who was their judge, jury, and executioner.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Malik's head raise as well, his eyes narrowed before he shook his head, returning to the parchment. "The novice never learns."

"Why do you call him that?"

Dark eyes looked over at me and there was a sadness in them. "He acts without thought, brash and stupid. To kill a target then get spotted long enough for the guards to spot him and ring those bells, it goes against the tenants."

"To be one with the crowd," I muttered, seeing the Dai nod. Lowering my eyes again, I force my curiosity to die down as I sat on the cushions inside, waiting for the assassin to return.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is UbiSoft related.

A/N: Okay, so new AC book coming out AND a new game? I'm one happy fangirl! Alright, back to fic.

Perhaps twenty to a half hour went by where we sat in silence before I heard footsteps on the roof then a shadow going over the dusk lighting coming through and finally the sound of something heavy falling inside. When I didn't see anything, I stood and went to the doorway, worried as to who it was.

My heart skipped a beat to find it was Altair. His back was hunched in his crouched position as a hand was to his ribs, panting harder than I've ever heard from him. "Altair?" The assassin's head jerked up and I could see that the man was tired. "Altair, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he snapped, sounding agitated. Backing in the bureau again, I lowered my eyes, intimidated by him. A few seconds after I did so, Malik lifted his head to the doorway, a look on his face I couldn't describe. Altair strolled through the door, his face composed from whatever pain he had, his breath calm and a smirk on his face as he lifted a crimson feather. "Jerusalem needs a new ruler," he said, triumphant with his victory.

Malik rolled his eyes, suddenly busying himself with a note before it was set aside.

Altair blinked, the smirk more prominent. "What's this? No words of wisdom for me? Surely I have failed in a spectacular fashion," he said, cocky and sarcastic. I shook my head.

Malik however, glared to the man, pointing a finger. "You performed as an assassin should; no more, no less," he said, slashing his hand in the air. "That you expect praise for merely doing as told however troubles me."

To me, it sounded as if Malik was scolding Altair and I suppose that it was to Altair as well, who merely lowered his head. "It seems everything I do troubles you."

"Reflect on that, only do so on your way back to Masyaf. Your work here is done."

The assassin nodded, the feather returned to his belt then backed out of the bureau. This struck me as odd; it was like he was afraid to turn his back on Malik. "Altair, what's wrong with your back?"

Both men lifted their heads, looking at each other. Malik in curiosity, hoping to know an answer, Altair in seeing if the Dai would react. "What did you do now, novice?"

"I am not a novice," Altair growled out.

Malik rolled his eyes, setting the quill aside, the empty sleeve once again empty as the kitten jumped out and was now rubbing against one of Altair's boots. "The way you are acting right now says otherwise. Let me see your back."

Altair lowered his hood. "I'm fine."

Watching the two carefully, I snuck around the two as they glared at each other, trying to see what it was for myself. What I saw was and yet wasn't a surprise. "It's an arrow!" Well, it wasn't complete but it was still there, hitting just under the sheath of the short blade, deep within the meat of his back. I would have to guess that Altair broke off the end and went through all that pain of running around with something sticking out of his back.

Malik threw up his hand, walking away. "An arrow, why does that not surprise me?" As he went through the doorway of the back, he barked an order to Altair. "Strip!"

A blush covered my face as I thought of what he just said. However, Altair huffed out a sigh before his hands went to work undoing the belt around his waist, just on top of the waist guard. "You shouldn't have said anything." He set this down carefully, not wanting to damage whatever he held in the pouches, the sword making little noise when set on the ground.

I glared at Altair, crossing my arms. "And then what? If you haven't noticed, it's nearly nighttime, you weren't going to leave until morning anyways and I don't know the first thing about medical care," I snapped. The waist guard was next to fall before the sheath of the short blade and throwing knives were set aside. "Besides, you could have gotten an infection."

Altair snorted as a gloved hand reached for the top of his hood. Now, I had always thought that the hood was part of his robes but it turned it, it was a cowl instead. His dark honey hair stood with what I like to call hood hair. It was wild and messy but it looked so soft to touch. "Infections are not a problem."

"They are if you don't get proper treatment." The red sash fell and this is where things got tricky. He needed some help, which was apparent, the outer robes holding the arrow still. "Hang on, you don't want to rip it anymore than you already have."

He glared over his shoulder and without the hood, it was intimidating yes, but it was also so raw to see his eyes uncovered from shadow. "I don't require your help." I rolled my eyes, grabbing the tails of the outer robes, gently pulling it up. He had sighed, reaching behind his head, grabbing the back of the robe's collar and pulled. It took some time but once it was free, all that was left was the tunic. The stain of red against the off white reminded me that he was just as human as I was.

There weren't any other stains on the tunic which probably meant that he didn't get hurt a lot or that he was supplied with different tunics. "Did you see who got you?"

He shook his head as he lowered himself to sit on the cushions, his back to me. "I couldn't see the details but their colors were that of Richard." 

"You got hit by an English archer?" I cried out incredulous. I was truly surprised that he had managed to get hit, but to get hit by an English archer, it was sort of terrifying. They're legendary!

I heard the sounds of boots landing behind me, the sleeveless assassin having returned along with one of those playing chess. "Where's Master Malik?"

Altair peered over his shoulder, removing his bracers at a slow pace. "Not here, obviously."

The sleeveless assassin lowered his hood, glaring at Altair. "So, the Eagle of Masyaf got pegged, tragic." I noticed that his hair was cut short, like a buzz cut but how did he get it that short? Did he shave his head? The other slapped a hand on his companion's shoulder, the two of them entering the bureau. "Maybe this might keep you grounded, Altair!"

The assassin at my feet growled out, returning to his work, muttering something I couldn't understand under his breath. As comical as this was, I was reminded that he was still in pain here and needed help. "Hold still, Altair." My hands went to the back of his tunic, pulling it up to hold the bunched material in one hand, the other going under it to feel around where the arrow had struck.

The feel of his skin was soft under my fingers marred only by a few scars but the muscle was firm and hard. As I felt the wood of the arrow, I slowly pulled the tunic up, freeing the arrow from the hold it made, letting the assassin take care of the rest. When he finally pulled it off, I was brought to a sight of his back, a very pretty feature for him, a few scars around his shoulders, some circling to the front. Altair peered over his shoulder, looking down once before looking back up at my face. "Go wash your hands."

I didn't understand what he meant until I looked down. His blood was now on my hands and I'm reminded of the dead from Damascus. Oh God. A breath caught in my throat as I shakily stood up and made my way to the fountain, relieved that the water was washing away the crimson life force, somewhat cleaning my memory of such a tragic and horrible event. I could still hear them all screaming, I can still hear them all beg for mercy, their death rattles before their last breath escaped their bodies. I was shaking and I knew it, having the blood remind me of what I had witnessed, what had happened. I feel my stomach roll as I put a hand to it, willing my body not to purge itself. Please, please, don't vomit.

I needed to get my mind off of the blood, off of the potential of my stomach winning. "I still can't believe you got hit on a mission."

"You try it sometime."

I looked at the armor he had, noticing it was one type only, save for the bracer of the hidden blade. "With only leather armor? No, thank you, I'd rather have the chain mail of the Templars even the Saracen's armor, as ineffective as it is. Or, I have a better idea, how about I don't, that sound good to you?"

Malik returned with one of the other assassins, carrying what looked like a small basket of some medical supplies while the other carried some fabric under his arm. The two set down their goods before Malik sat on his knees behind Altair, the hand going to the tip of the arrow. He wriggled it around and I saw Altair jaw turn tense as he held back a cry of pain. "It's in deep."

"It was shot by an English archer, of course it's going to be deep." I leaned against a wall, seeing the other assassin, the one with the stain on his shoulder, gave me a funny look and left us be. I ignored the look, turning my head away. "He might as well have been shot by the most famous of them," I muttered, remembering a very familiar story that may or may not be real.

"How would you know of English archers?" Malik asked, looking back at me as he grabbed a knife from his belt.

"They're legendary. They were said to be the best that ever was and because they were so feared for their marksmanship, archers were often captured by their enemies and have the forefinger and middle finger cut off so that they could never draw another bow again." I raised my fingers as an example. "Whenever the English won a battle, the archers would hold up their fingers like this, as if to mock their enemies by saying that they still had them. It's in fact a very derogatory thing to do, an equivalence of biting your thumb at someone."

Malik blinked at the information as Altair peered his head over his shoulder well, would have if Malik hadn't dug his blade in Altair flesh. The assassin grunted and once again, I drew near Altair. "Grab it and pull when I say," Malik told me, rotating the blade around under the arrow head. Nodding, I grabbed hold of the wood, feeling that it was harder and sturdy under my fingers, perhaps English oak but with the lighting, I couldn't tell. "Now, pull." Jerking my hand, I felt the arrow slide from Altair's flesh but it wasn't going to be a clean wound. Altair tensed his back to try to withdraw from the hurt and therefore, making the extraction difficult. "Stop for a moment." There was a look on his face of pure want as he glared at the back of Altair's head. What did he want? Well, I suspected it was to slap Altair's head.

Wish granted! I cracked up laughing as Malik lowered the knife and then smacked Altair's head. "You're tensing, making it difficult to pull this out!" Altair glared over his shoulder, his hand to the slap.

Putting a hand to his shoulder, feeling the heat of his body, I nodded to Altair. "The sooner this comes out, the quicker you'll be to Masyaf." And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that staying in Masyaf instead of traveling around with Altair would be better considering I'd be near the Apple more and I wouldn't have to worry about getting hurt anymore. No more blood, no more sore legs, no worries over messing with timeline; I'd be somewhat free…somewhat.

"Pull now." I grabbed onto the wooden stick and yanked hard, a little too hard because I suddenly fell backwards onto my ass. I heard the roar of laughter from the other room and I immediately knew that the other three were watching. As I glared at the others through the spaces of the wall, I turned to see Malik continue to dig inside Altair's back. "There are pieces of wood and stone in the wound. Grab that cloth, wipe up the blood," he ordered me, paying close attention to the wound at hand.

Grabbing the cloth that was next to a bowl, starting at where the blood started, at the small of Altair's back. I made sure the blood didn't get near me as I wiped what I could reach, following up his spine, pulling away to fold the cloth for a clean spot to catch more. The closer I got to the wound, the thicker the blood was and the more there was. "Do you see that?" Malik asked, moving away so that I could see inside the wound. When I did look on the inside, I saw that there were some splinters of stone glinting in the poor light that was provided. "Pass the tweezers," he said, setting down the knife. Doing as told, I passed what looked like a cruder form of tweezers than what I was used to back at home.

One by one, little shards of stone were extracted from Altair's back until finally, it was cleared by Malik. The Dai grabbed my hand, holding it under Altair's wound. "Hold it here." Without warning, he poured a bottle of strong smelling wine over the wound, making Altair arch his back like a slug to salt, crying out from the pain. "Don't be a child."

Altair turned his head and glared and that honey gaze looked so dangerous but the intimidation washed over Malik without a problem. The Dai busied himself with something inside a basket, fetching whatever else he needed while I smirked at Altair's misery. "You big baby."

"You're as bad as Malik."

"Nah, I haven't done anything to make you feel pain, assassin."

The Dai smirked holding out a needle, already attached with a thread, a small grace for the one armed man. Stitches, that's something I can't handle and yet, I'm the one mopping up the blood. Blood, I looked away as I felt Malik's hand brush against mine, the sharp piece of metal entering Altair's skin as stitches grew tight, fusing the two pieces of skin together. A gruesome task and I was thankful that I didn't have to do it, I was also thankful that I wouldn't be hurting Altair.

"Dai!" I turned my head to see one of the men who were playing chess, the one with shaggy hair, come through the doorway. "Ishmael's not feeling well, he can't keep anything down, not even water," he said, his eyebrows knit together in worry. "He might have been poisoned."

Malik swore under his breath, passing the needle to me. "Finish this," he said before he stood, rushing to where the other was.

My hands shook as I suddenly realized what I was dealing with. I can't stitch up Altair, I can't even sew! "I don't know what to do," I whispered, trying to calm my nerves.

Altair looked over his shoulder, catching my gaze. "Still your nerves and don't get distracted. Follow the same path as Malik and don't worry about giving me pain," he said calmly. "I can take it." The curved needle glinted menacingly in my fingers, parts red due to Altair's blood but it still so sharp to stitch his wound closed. "Keep your hand steady. It's like sewing."

I shook my head, scared of what to do. "I have never sewed a stitch of thread in my life," I replied back. This wasn't life or death; I just have to be careful. "I don't know how deep to make the stitches." Biting my lower lip, I put a hand to the wound, pinching the skin together and with an achingly slowness, I began my road to being a medic. I worried how tight I made the stitches but after a small error, I learned that there was such a thing as too tight and that it was just as dangerous if they were too loose. "How long would you have to keep these in?"

Altair's head went up, to see the grating above. "Until it heals. A few days, perhaps a week. However long it takes."

When I no longer needed to hold his skin together, I let my fingers follow a scar. "How did you get this?" As long as he talked, it got my mind off of the task at hand.

He turned his head, looking at my fingers before turning back to view in front of him. "Training. The instructor was teaching how to dodge. I spun in the wrong way and my flesh met with his sharp blade."

"And this?" It was small and irregular, not like a clean cut from blades. "Where's this from?"

"Wrestling. My first outside of my birthing." My mind flew to what happens when giving birth. The removal of the cord and for religion, circumcision. "I landed on a sharp rock; lost a tooth, got a black eye and that. The other was bruised and had a similar wound on his arm." A sudden smile, an honest genuine smile, appeared on his lips. "My opponent was Malik."

It must have been the time that they first met, like Kalil said! What could have caused them to set them off and to fight one another? "I'm curious, you don't have too many of these. You're very good at what you do." Realizing I was nearing the end, I smiled. "However, scars are like badges for men, badges of honor, shows their skill and ultimately, that they're strong."

His back tensed up in the middle of a stitch, showing that he was uncomfortable. "That word is thrown around a lot." Altair then set a hand to his stomach, to a wound I knew very well. "My honor and life were taken from me, and these missions are the result of it."

The man was growing again but this time, I could see it as clear as day. A hand went to his head, ruffling his hair. "Well, I for one am thankful for this, after all, if you hadn't found me, I probably would have been dead long ago."

"…Malik's brother, Kadar, died the mission before this," Altair said, his voice so full of remorse that it broke my heart into a thousand pieces. "The boy looked up to me and I led him to his death."

My fingers, no longer busy with his stitches, were now tying off a knot to make sure it didn't unravel, making it a squared knot. "There was nothing you could have done, Altair, Robert threw you from the room. While you were flying, you hit a pillar which caused a cave in, after that, you couldn't control what was going on in the other room." Altair's head turned and was looking at me with wide eyes. "As I said in Masyaf: I know a lot more than you can imagine, assassin." Finishing the knot, I cut the thread off using the knife Malik left behind.

"How do you know?" he asked with so much hesitation.

"You will never know," I said, cleaning up, never once looking back t him. "There are some things in this world that you will never know, Altair." Standing, I turned and left him sitting in the courtyard, going to find what was wrong with the one Altair saved.

-.-.-

Tweezers are one of the many, many things that were founded in ancient Egypt.

The information stated up above was true of English archers and to this day, you'll still find those living in England to throw the two fingers at someone.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is property of UbiSoft.

A/N: After going through the reviews, I've come to the conclusion that having this up for people to read on Sunday morning helps them throughout the week, especially if tests and exams are coming up or if they need a picker upper. With that said, I'm sticking to the date and time like always. Thank you to those who gave me their opinions, it helped me decide on a definite time.

It looked like snot.

No, I'm totally serious, it looked like snot!

Tapping the bowl, it wriggled and jiggled.

It's snot.

Let me explain.

After sewing up Altair and checked on the poisoned assassin, I came to find out that the shaggy haired assassin was a cook. Delighted to get good food in my belly, I asked for something to eat. I was hoping for something like a steak or stew or fish or something. Instead, I have a bowl of snot sitting in front of me. Everyone had a bowl in front of them and the three assassins, the ones I don't know, were busy chowing down in the corner with the chess table, eating the snot with utensils and their own fingers.

In the courtyard, where he still sat, bare-chested, Altair ate noisily with his fingers, slurping it up greedily. I sat in my pile of cushions while looking down at the snot before my eyes went to the Dai. He didn't touch his meal, well, not until he set down his quill and ate some using a utensil.

I wouldn't touch it.

"What is that?" I asked, nodding down at the snot in front of me.

The three in the corner looked my way while Sir Buzz Cut finally finished what was in his mouth. "What's what?" My stomach rolled. He wasn't finished. I saw globs of food roll around inside his mouth, making what little appetite I had vanish.

"What's that?" I asked again, nodding down to my food.

"Chilled monkey brains," Malik said, all the while, glaring at the noisy Altair. "Do you ever eat like a civilized person or will you always act like a child?" Altair's answer was a glare.

"Brains?"

They served me brains…

Putting a finger to the lid of my bowl, I pushed it as far away from me as I could, bending at the waist so it went even further before sitting back up, hands in my lap, my shoulders back. "I are not zombie. I do not eat brains," I muttered to myself.

Malik raised an eyebrow at me but I kept my eyes on my bowl. "Mind if I…?" I heard from one of the three.

"Have at it," I answered, waving a hand to them, wanting to get it out of my face. "I'm grateful; I really am, however, I'm not comfortable with eating…brains. You'll have to forgive me." The three looked at each other, sharing a glance before the one with the buzz cut let out a string of chuckles. I quickly looked up at him, raising a finger. I knew what that meant. I didn't even know the man and I knew what he was planning. How? I had younger brothers. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no."

Malik glared at the buzz cut, who I've dubbed Sir Buzz Cut in my mind, and shook his head right as the big assassin had scooped up a handful of the gray matter. I guess that he had thought the same thing and looking at Altair, he was currently looking at Sir Buzz Cut curiously but looking back at the Dai, his eyes looked pained.

Altair was so exposed and vulnerable like this, his emotions for all to see without the hood and I felt like I should cover him up, keep him a secret and a mystery forever but I knew that there would be no turning back with the man.

Of course, he ate messily with his fingers.

Turning my eyes to Malik, he would be a mystery to me still and with a limited amount of time to speak to him, I felt as if I'll probably never know the man. Almost as if he knew I was thinking of him, he looked right at me, as if studying me as well. Staring deep within those dark orbs of his eyes, I felt I could get lost forever, like he was dragging out my soul with those eyes.

I felt the kitten brush against my hands, distracting me long enough to look down at the tom, picking him up by the scuff of his neck and setting him in my lap, my fingers already scratching behind his ears. When I looked up again, Malik was cleaning up the area around him, grabbing his bowl and made his way from around the counter to head into the back rooms. I wondered why Malik was looking at me with such intensity in his eyes.

The kitten mewled at me, looking up with the large greenish yellow eyes of his, begging for something I couldn't understand. Was it attention that he craved, desired? "You are one weird cat." Within seconds, I heard the familiar kissy noise and the kitten turned his head, seeing the three at the chess table, who were all finished from the looks of things, as one lowered my bowl onto the ground, the gray matter inside nearly all gone. I felt disgusted when chunks fell from the kitten's mouth, landing in the bowl beneath it.

I felt my stomach lunge as my body threatened to purge itself.

Don't vomit, don't vomit, don't vomit.

If I were home and had brains for dinner, my mother would first throw it out or that she would serve it to us and after a few bites, tell us what it is without first eating it herself. I miss home, I miss my family. Curling my legs, I put my forehead to my knees and silently hoped that I could at least see them again, if just for five minutes, or to talk to them, or something.

Malik came back out, holding some sort of iron bar, tossing it at the stained sleeved assassin. As the assassin caught it, the one with shaggy hair stood, nodding to the Dai as he went into the courtyard and the sounds of a body scrambling up a wall as Altair turned his head, watching the guy leave. "How is he?" I asked, looking up at the Dai.

"A minor poison. He'll be retching until morning."

"And the other three?"

"Three?"

I looked over at Altair, seeing that he was currently looking at me funny. He didn't say anything, only a thin frown on his face told me that I shouldn't have said anything. I had a feeling that I would be explaining myself to him later, maybe tonight or later on in the week.

The one with the stain walked past Altair, the bar tight in his hand, disappearing behind the wall before I heard wood sliding against each other. The grate was closed, like it was so many times in the game and with a clang, I heard the sounds of a metal lock closing. The bureau was closed for the night and I for one was thankful for it. Though I don't know two of the assassins here, I feel safer with these men, knowing that I'm protected.

Malik turned to Sir Buzz, the look on his face clearly not happy while the one with the stain returned, setting the iron bar against a wall. "Do not expect pleasant accommodations. If you wish to leave, you do so quietly." He then gave Sir Buzz a hard look and the stern look in his eyes was back, the same look he would sometimes give Altair. "And do not do anything foolish." Sir Buzz only gave a smirk.

Standing, I crossed the bureau, going to Altair, the kitten pawing at my feet, claws extracted but not making a dent in my boots. Sitting in the courtyard next to the dangerous man, I could tell that the night was going to be a long one.

Malik looked my way, nodded once before he went around the counter, grabbing a scroll and a quill, writing something down, Sir Buzz and the one with the stain were beginning a chess game. "How did you know?"

Altair wasn't looking at me, only setting aside the bowl of disgust, his movements careful. "How did you know?"

I lowered my eyes, speaking as quietly as I could. "There were four on the stand, three men and a woman. Maj'd Addin would have killed the woman first, a harlot he claimed." Altair's eyes turned my way. "The only one you needed to save was the assassin."

"They live still."

A wave of relief washed over me. "The poison would have made sure that they suffered if they were to somehow survive, make them weaker, easier to recapture." I lowered my eyes, taking in a second before looking back at the assassin. The same question in his eyes made me sigh. "I told you many times now, assassin, I know a lot more than you can imagine."

"So tell me some of it. You spoke of Solomon's temple, as if you had been there, seen what had happened. Explain to me that," he demanded, his jaw tight and eyes harsh. "Answer me, woman."

I clenched my jaw, my teeth hard together. Closing my eyes, I tried to think of a way to get out of this mess but a hard hand on my shoulder made my eyes fly open. "There is one thing you should know about me, Altair: I may be intimidated by you, but I keep secrets. Besides, I told you, you'll never know."

The hand slid off my person and amber eyes narrowed. "One day, you will tell me."

"If that day happens." Part of me knew that the particular day Altair was looking forward to was never going to happen while another part told me to just spill out everything. I sighed and looked away. "Listen, what information I know, I can divulge but that's to my discretion."

Altair let out a breath, nodding along. "You knew of the archers." I cracked a smile, shaking my head. "You find this amusing?"

"Oh, come on, even you must of heard of them at some point in your life, of how fast their arrows fly, of their accuracy, of how lethal they can hit a man from so far away. They probably heard ghost stories of you assassins as well. Angels with bladed wings, flying across rooftops, killing a man with stealth, speed, precision; it's like swapping one famous tale for another."

"You speak as if you knew this to be true." My smile grew. "Tell me, soothsayer, is it?" I looked away, my grin never fading.

The kitten sauntered to us, his purrs happily feeling the air. Grabbing the tom by the scruff of his neck, I held him close to me, rubbing behind his ears. "I'm not comfortable sleeping in the same room with the big one," I admitted. "He's a loose cannon. I don't trust him."

Altair didn't say anything, his eyes looking inside the bureau. "He won't harm you." Oh, yeah, like I believe that. A tenant of the creed is to not harm an innocent but I had a feeling that Sir Buzz would do more than using a blade against me. "Sleep."

Looking over at Altair, I thought about it. I trust Altair, I trust Malik and I had a feeling I could trust the one with the stain but Sir Buzz, I wasn't sure. Still, I laid down, my head inches from Altair's leg, my eyes watching Malik as the kitten nuzzled under my chin, wrapping his tail around my neck. Closing my eyes, I swear, I saw the big assassin flash me a grin.

-.-.-

_The hot water is almost scalding as it washes over my skin, over the porcelain in my hand. I'm home, doing the dishes, music I can but can't hear pounding in ear buds in ears. I'm wearing my old sleep clothes, pair of men's sleep pants and an old shirt, washing the dishes in the middle of the night. It was nothing new that I would do dishes late at night, work often had me come home just to clean my house, the only time I could clean. I'm alone, facing the sink, washing dishes, listening to music that I couldn't hear._

_I hear it._

_It's like a sigh, an exhale of breath but it's enough to draw my attention away. Looking over at the doorway to the kitchen, I see him._

_Altair._

_Oh, God. It's Altair. He's bloody, robes torn, what skin I do see is bruised. He's beaten and torn and I'm suddenly scared. His skin's pale and I see him flash a grin, the scar on his lips no longer a scar but a fresh gash. His wide tongue flicks out, licking the blood that's pooling around that wound before his eyes no longer the vivid gold that I remember, they're instead a blue-ish gray, like a white film was covering them._

_I see my kitchen disappear in the blink of an eye and we're suddenly in a white room. I see him hold up his short blade as he lifts an arm. I shake my head, begging, pleading with him not to do it. His grin grew as the blade sliced across his arm. He didn't flinch with pain but I screamed for him. He did this several times but each time, there wasn't any blood falling from the fresh wounds, instead, I'm grabbing my arm, screaming in pain as I see my own blood coating my hand, falling from my own arm._

_No more, stop it, please._

_The blade lifts and it's pointed straight at his heart. I scream loudly as it buries itself inside his body._

-.-.-

I woke with a start, sitting up as I'm panting, scared that Altair was killing me. It's dark in the bureau, in the courtyard, it's dark everywhere. Too dark, I can't see.

I feel a heat next to me, pressing against my lower back as bear like snores are heard inside the bureau. I slowly remember where I am and suddenly lie back down, suddenly afraid of what's going to happen, pushing my back into whatever it was that was pushing against me. I felt breathing against me before I realize that I'm pushing against a man. I rolled over, my hands feeling hot skin, my finger brushing against a raised gash, rough to the touch. Altair.

Pressing my forehead against his shoulder blades, I closed my eyes once again, feeling somewhat safer.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Disclaimer: I don't own UbiSoft products.

A/N: Thanks for all your reviews. I know that this chapter is a little late, it's because this weekend is hectic and my personal life has drastically gotten in the way. For those who know what time of year this is, that's the reason why. I'm so proud. Anyways, here's this chapter.

I'm warm, holding onto a pillow as I nuzzle it, my sleep broken for a small moment. Something heavy is on my side, holding me in place. I don't know what it is that woke me, but I wasn't complaining. I was warm, I was safe, I was content. My pillow rumbles and I feel something touch the top of my head. Nuzzling my pillow once again, I let sleep take me as something rough but with a gentle touch runs down my cheek.

-.-.-

Morning rolls around with the loud clang of the metal lock unlatching, startling me into waking up, sitting up, gasping loudly. I heard a string of chuckles as I turned, seeing the big assassin looking down at me as he fell back down from the grate, picking up the metal bar. Holding it with two hands, he set on end on the ground and leaned against it. "Rise and shine, sunshine," he said in a mocking tone, his eyes catching the light. "New dawn has risen." Already, I heard the sounds of the prayer leaders, I think they're called imam, as they sing out into the morning air.

I slowly back away from him, standing so I'm not as a disadvantage, should something happen. "You look scared," he said, eyebrows risen as he nodded my way. "Like a startled colt."

Moving carefully, I inched my way back into the bureau, well, I would have if the giant metal bar wasn't raised suddenly. Scared, I backed away, nearly stumbling over the second fountain in the courtyard. The assassin laughed as the grate was moved back to an open position. "Like a startled colt. Well, little filly, you don't need to be afraid around me," he said, the wicked grin returned.

I gathered up my courage and looked at him dead in the eye. "I'm not afraid of you," I lied, hoping that my voice wasn't shaking. I felt my heart race, as I trembled.

The big bear of a man stood in front of me, the bar lowered once again before he leaned down. He was taller than Altair and covered with muscle, that was obvious, but the size of them, they were much bigger than those that I've seen on an assassin. "Then why do you shake like a leaf?" He lowered himself down to my height and I could see he had flecks of green in those tan eyes, making them hazel instead of what I previously thought. They were filled with mirth, dancing under the morning sun while that smirk on his was stuck on his face. He wasn't as tan as the others, but he wasn't as pale as me either. Instead, it looked like he was tanning.

His hair, it was cut short, as if shaved, that was obvious but the color, it was light. Anglo light. Sir Buzz Cut had European blood in him. "Why do you stare like that?" I shook my head, taking a step back, suddenly aware of the distance between us. "Silly little filly."

I stepped away from the big assassin, heading into the bureau where I saw the stained sleeved assassin and the one with shaggy hair were having an arm contest on the counter, one on either side, the bother of them grunting as their muscles flexed. I blinked however when I realized that I couldn't tell the two apart save for the stain. They were twins, each one with dark eyes, shaggy hair that curled delicately behind their ears and the back of their necks. I wondered when the non-stained sleeved assassin had returned. I then realized that I needed to dub them like I did with the big assassin or I'd forever get them confused. The one on the inside of the counter grunted a little louder than his brother and it looked like he was beginning to win but that small space that he got was quickly lost and once again, they were at a standstill.

Malik wasn't anywhere to be seen and neither was Altair, it was a little disturbing. I worried over Altair's newest wound and whether or not it would get infected, especially if we should leave for Masyaf right away. They didn't have modern medicine during this time period so there wouldn't be anything I could do. Thinking back on it, how did Altair manage to ride to and from his targets and Masyaf, especially if he was wounded. Wait, strike that, how did Malik? His arm was wounded from Solomon's Temple beneath Jerusalem so how long was it that infection set in and prevented use and eventually had to be severed? Three days to Masyaf from Jerusalem unless he rode on throughout the evenings but he'd have to replace his horse to keep good time. How did he do it?

Sir Buzz Cut entered the bureau, setting the metal bar against a wall before he stretched, his arms in the air as I heard several pops. Where they his shoulders, elbows and wrists? But then the arms went back and I heard more pops. Those I recognized; those pops were his collar bones. The man was going to get bad arthritis later on in life and to be in joint pain while having a career as an assassin, that was a bad combination if I ever did hear one.

It was then that I heard a war cry and a loud thud, seeing one of the twins raise his arms in victory, the other hanging his head in shame as his own were on the counter's surface. I suddenly wanted to giggle at their antics but at the same time, I felt so out of place. Going to my cushions, I curled up, holding my knees close to me as I watched the three talk, the bigger catching the twin at the counter in a headlock, the one behind the counter jumping over to his brother's rescue, tackling the big bear of an assassin, putting him a headlock as well before they all took a tumble, falling to the hard floor beneath them. As funny as this was, I only shook my head, hoping that they didn't get too hurt and that they wouldn't get in too much trouble with Malik.

Ah, speak of the devil. Malik came out from the back, his arm busy putting on the black rafik robe, a heavy glare at those on the ground. "Need I ask?"

Alright, I giggled because suddenly, all three of them stood up, greeting the Dai before spilling excuses of how the others were causing some sort of ruckus and how they stepped in to shut them up, one way or another. I found the situation amusing. Malik only waved his hand, shutting the three up. "I don't care who started it, I just ended it. Now, go out and scout out Templar activity, see if there's anything that's been built or destroyed during the night, train, go do something, just do it outside of the bureau. Go."

The big assassin looked my way, his hands going to his hood, slipping it over his head, the twins following suit before nodding their heads to Malik then scurried out of the bureau, well, Sir Buzz Cut lingered a little longer than the twins but like the two, he left as well.

Looking over at Malik, he was currently rolling up a mini-scroll and making a warbling noise to lure a pigeon his way. Was it a short report to Al Mualim saying that the assassin, Ishmael, had been saved? Did he even make it throughout the night? No, he had to, Malik said that he'd be fine, sick like a dog for a week, but otherwise in good condition. "Good morning, Malik."

The Dai turned his dark eyes to me as a feathered rat landed on the counter. "And to you," he replied, tying the scroll onto the pigeon before taking the bird in hand, walking to the courtyard then tossed it up, watching as the bird took wing and flew off. "You slept out here during the night," he remarked.

"I wasn't comfortable with those three in the same room as my sleeping body." Malik's eyebrows twitched before a frown set upon his lips. "They wouldn't have harmed you."

Nodding, I looked away. "So I've been told. I just didn't feel safe." I suddenly wondered why he made this statement. "Have you seen Altair around?"

Malik shook his head, walking back behind the counter, pulling out a small parchment. "The novice is in the back," he said curtly. I wanted to ask what but I had a feeling that I didn't want to really know. The memory of an earlier event, of him having to embarrassingly excuse himself, flashed in my head and I smiled.

"How long do you think it will be before the stitches can be removed?" I asked, wondering if we'll be here in Jerusalem long. If we are here longer, I'd like to look around, see if I can't find out why it is that I'm here.

Malik let out a heavy sigh, setting a few tomes on the counter. "He'll be able to move around with little difficulty; they can be removed sometime within the next two days." He must have sensed my next question. "Though his wound is suitable to ride, I wouldn't suggest it until they are removed."

"I'm out of supplies. Can I trust you to gather a few things for me?" he asked, turning my way to see my reaction.

I stood, nodding. "Sure, don't mind, what do you need?" I want to help out in any way I can rather than just sit here like a bump on a log. I wondered if he would give me a list but then logic hit me; I can't read Arabic. "It won't be too much, will it?"

Malik looked up from what he was writing down, the look in his eye sarcastic. "Need somewhere you need to be?"

Pausing for the moment, I thought about what I could possibly be doing at home. I'd probably have a day off and… Oh geez, my dentist appointment. I groaned and shook my head, suddenly remembering the sounds of a drill from across the hall, thankful that I wasn't the one with cavities. "No, not here." I haven't brushed or flossed my teeth since I arrived. Fuck, I didn't even floss before my accident! If I ever see my dentist again, he's going to kill me!

I wonder… the assassins I've spoken to all have strong white teeth, how do they keep them clean? I'd have to ask Alima when we arrive in Masyaf. "Here, give this to the merchants, they'll give you what's written down."

I looked at the script, finding it wasn't in Arabic but Hebrew instead. "I'm going to be buying from a Jewish merchant?"

"Your name." Oh. "Your features aren't one of the children of Islam but your name is Hebrew." I suppose this was correct even though I don't speak Hebrew. Biting my lower lip, I supposed I could fake mute. However, something threw me for a loop, like how I was supposed to pay, what if I was cheated out of money or given the wrong things? "Can you handle this?" The way he asked, it was as if he was suddenly worried about me and if things would be alright.

I nodded, taking another glance at the list, my fingers trailing over the script as if I could read using my fingertips. "It would be better if I could read the language, then I could know what to get rather than guess." He nodded with understanding, resting his hand reassuringly on my arm. "I'll be alright though."

He nodded once again before his hand slipped away, pulling out a small pouch from his side, a tinkling noise coming from it before he handed it to me. "This should cover the expenses." The contents inside sounded like coins and I began to wonder how much the one armed Dai had on hand, if he gets more in from Masyaf or gets paid with targets. This preoccupied me as Malik walked me to the back, opening up the back way into the bureau. "Be careful, Elisheba."

I grinned at him and nodded. "I'll see you soon." As he handed me a basket, to put what I buy in, our fingers brushed together and I felt a blush flare in my cheeks before I turned and left, not wanting to see the look in his eyes. Raising my shawl back over my head, I turned to a busy street, trusting my feet to know the way.

The streets of Jerusalem were busy, busier than I expected and with guards carefully patrolling the area, scouring the grounds for something, anyone or anything that looked suspicious. They were probably searching for Altair, not knowing that he wasn't in the area anymore and was hidden in a safe place. Speaking of which, where was he? I didn't see him in the bureau. Was he in the back?

I slowly began to think about the difference between what I knew was game and what I see as reality. Lucy once asked Desmond if he read Chaucer. Geoffrey Chaucer, I've read his stories before but I had to admit, the way the people speak, it's not like that. There's no Shakespearean quotes, no use of big words, of a different word usage, instead, it's as it is of modern language. I bit my lip, thinking about this even more, the list in my hand crumpling. Was it because of the way I know the way people of the twenty-first century spoke? But that didn't make any sense! My head began to hurt with the amount of stress I put on it.

A whistle made my eyes dart up, following the roof tops. There, staring down at me was Sir Buzz. He had a feral grin on his face, almost like he was stalking something he knew was stupid. Wasn't he back in the bureau? No, Malik kicked him out, that's right. I frowned and looked away, not really wanting to see the bare-sleeved assassin. There was something off by him; I didn't trust the man and I wasn't comfortable around him. The air around him seemed to be misleading though with his playful eyes, the very eyes that twinkled with amusment when I peeked up at him from under my shawl. He hadn't moved but the twins were with him, both of their lips moving as they nodded to each other.

I felt like prey.

Turning, I knew it would be useless to try and lose assassins, however, they didn't have Altair's Eagle Vision so I could try to lose them but then I myself would be lost. That would be a problem.

Distracting myself, I thought about where I was exactly. The rich district didn't have much of a market place, not that I wanted to buy from the wares here anyways, they might be more expensive than what Malik gave me. Where did he get the money? It's not like the assassins have a day job, well, not yet at least. Funds from Al Mualim? Did Malik somehow lend his services as well? Where his maps for sale like Kalil's pots? A naughty thought crossed my mind and I couldn't get a silly smile off my face, a blush off of my cheeks.

I saw a white blur run past me before jumping over a wall and sitting on a bench as if nothing happened, meanwhile the woman next to the man in white stared at him, as if he just popped out of no-where. I could tell she was beginning to freak out due to the look on her face and it was hysterical. Giggles erupted from my person as I passed by, seeing that she had enough of the assassin's mysterious entrance to her world and had walked up to leave, every fourth step to turn around and see if he was still there.

It was one of the twins and he was watching me carefully. Stopping by the man, I crossed my arms. "Must you follow me?"

His hood went up and soft pouty lips, holy cow, tilted into a smile. "I must." Oh, he had a rich voice, like chocolate that made me feel fuzzy inside. "You're leaving the district."

I looked back at some of the stands, seeing that men in rich robes were talking to boisterous merchants while slaves stood behind, holding boxes, baskets, and other goods. "This is the rich district and therefore, more expensive things. I'd rather stay within budget and not have to give up an arm or a leg."

The assassin nodded and turned his head, looking to the side. "What does the master want you to get?" Without a word, I handed him the list. I can't read it and I hoped that he could. I suddenly felt guilty and wanted the parchment back. Malik gave this task to me and therefore, I should carry it out, I shouldn't be passing it to another. Besides, guilt ate at me as I thought of the assassin doing the shopping instead of myself. "These are simple things."

Shrugging, I supposed they were but once again, I couldn't read Hebrew. "Could you tell me what I'm searching for instead of pawing around in the dark?"

The man said nothing, only slipping the slip under his armor and held up a finger. "Wait here." He then left before I could say anything.

Huffing, I sat in the very spot he sat and crossed my arms and my legs, feeling very upset that I was left behind. Malik trusted me with this and I felt like I was failing him, that this newly formed trust was breaking if he discovered that one of the assassins had done my errands for me.

Here I was, useless again. I can't do anything in this world, I'm a burden to everyone and I'm pretty sure that Altair wouldn't be stopping every evening to make camp. I'm just someone he's hauling around, protecting me, watching over me… I dug my nails in my arms, closing my eyes.

I wasn't useful here.

I shouldn't even be here.

Come on, Elis-Elizabeth, don't get depressed now! I've still got to see him defeat the rest of his targets, then… I shook my head, still not wanting to believe it. I've got to see this through, I've got to find a way home. I can't get depressed over not helping.

And yet, I still felt useless…


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter Forty

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that was created by UbiSoft.

A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews, I love them all so much and I find myself going through them often and laughing. Thank you all for making me smile and happy. Here you are, the next chapter.

An hour rolled by. I knew this because the shadows of a building slowly crept by and with a few songs stuck in my head, knowing their length; I put two and two together. Since having sat on the bench, the twin, who later calls himself Bahram, comes back every so often, sometimes carrying something in hand or in his arms but more often than not, he's pulling out little things from the many hidden pockets on his person. I had to admit, having an assassin to help out was quite useful, even if he was the one running around and gathering things up.

Sighing, I lowered my shawl, looking up at the cloudless sky through squinting eyes. Was there something I could do? Not just here in Jerusalem I mean, but in the creed? I probably won't be going home anytime soon, not with the Apple still in Al Mualim's control and I don't know where the other Pieces of Eden are. No, I take that back, I know where one is and that's out of everyone's grasp forever.

Adha, the Chalice. Altair's first and lost love.

Why was a woman a Piece of Eden? I don't get it and perhaps, I never will. There is nothing really sacred about a woman except that she bears children. …Could that have been it? Something nags at the back of my mind and if I were at home, I'd do research to look this up, ask around to the other gamers, perhaps even pull in evidence from games but here? I'm helpless.

"You are quiet." I heard, seeing Bahram holding up a small pouch in front of my face. "Eat, you need to put something in your belly."

Taking the pouch, I opened it up, seeing what looked like bark. "What's this?"

He answered, grinning, "sugarcane."

I blinked. "Are you sure?" Picking out a thin piece, I raised it to my nose to see if it was true. It was sweet, like the way sugar smells… Placing it in my mouth, I slowly chewed, grinding it between my molars as a rush of sugary sweetness flooded my mouth. Ah, sugar.

His smile grew wider. "Do you cook with this?"

His eyebrows furrowed together. "I believe you've mistaken me for my brother."

What?

There on his sleeve was a stain. "Oh, I am so sorry!" I felt like an idiot, a chagrin blush on my face as I my eyes with a hand.

His laugh was rich and his hand gentle as it was laid on my head. "You're not the first to mistaken he and I and I can assure you that you won't be the last." Looking back up at the twin, I saw amusement in his eyes as they sparkled. Like nearly everyone here, he had brown eyes and these were dark, almost as dark as Malik's but they turned up near the corners, not down like the Dai's. He had happy eyes and with that bright smile, it fit him perfectly. "Bahram is my brother, I am Ardeshir."

I opened my mouth to give him the name I've given everyone but he raised his hand. "Master Malik has told me. He's quite reluctant to give out information about those who aren't of the brotherhood."

Malik told him? Sighing, I looked away, almost upset. "I'm not part of the creed, I know that." My depressed feeling of being useless came back stronger than what I had expected. Would I be as useless at home? I'd be working but what would that accomplish in my life? Sure, I'd be working and doing something during my days but what would that help out? Was I as much of a burden there as I am here? Mom and dad... they wouldn't have to worry about helping me out, my brother wouldn't have to worry about a snooping sister. "I don't know where I belong."

The man shrugged his shoulders, the fabric whispering with the movement. "Perhaps we never know until we're already there."

"Fat chance."

"Pardon?"

Oh, lingo. "Means I highly doubt that." I need to remember that many of the words I know are modernized, several hundred years in the future from this point.

At this point, I spat out the sugar cane, getting a new piece. The day seemed dull and with his Sixth target dead, Altair would be returning to Masyaf. He needs to rest first, get better before he can ride. "You're troubled," the man observed, moving to sit next to me. "Why?"

I shook my head. "I'm worried about Altair."

"You're worried over Master Altair?" Looking out from the corner of my eye, I saw Ardeshir's eyebrows furrow. "I shouldn't think that you should worry yourself over him. Master Altair's been wounded before. He's died before and yet he still stands."

Died? Oh! Failing at Solomon's temple and the need to regain his lost title. I wondered if he had a scar from where the knife had pierced his belly. My inner fangirl suddenly squealed as images of men's abs went flying through my head. A blush covered my face as I lowered my head, pulling my shawl back over my head. I was somewhat worried that my blush would be spotted but something told me I shouldn't worry about this. He wasn't paying attention, something told me that.

No, his gaze was watching the middle class move about, watching the way the men sauntered, the way women rebalanced baskets, pots, children, whatever, on their hips, voices, a sea of voices roaring in the busy bazaar. He was an assassin, he wouldn't be paying attention to one girl's blush.

Something flickered out of the corner of my eye. "You see him too, huh?" I didn't answer, just sat still. "You're new, something to play with. I'd be careful around him; he's got dark tastes." I lowered my head once, to show that I was paying attention. "He's been trying to figure you out, saw you sleep cuddled up to Altair like a lover. Heard you were in Malik's bed. He's trying to figure where you lay in this."

I cuddled next to Altair… My inner fangirl went nuts but I couldn't think on that. I made myself sick. I'm bending history, rewriting it. I had to fix it! "Altair is my companion. Without him, I'd be dead," I said softly. "I do love him, but he's not mine to have." My head lowered heavily. "There's another out there, she's so close; she's his." My heart broke as I spoke the truth, the hard truth.

"Then why curl up to him?"

Disgust hit me and I wanted to retch. I was scared so I curled up to Altair? In my moment of fear, I made myself desperate for safety, clinging to a man and to that excuse, I seemed like I wanted something more, something darker, something naughty.

There was no good answer for his question.

"Why are you curious?"

Ardeshir looked at me, the smile faded and the amusement gone. "Because you're different." I looked at him confused. "You bravely stand against assassins, keeping secrets that you know that would kill for." That's right, he was the one who gave Malik the supplies. "You know so much and yet so little, you are confused by the life around you, as if it wasn't your own and you move carefully, as if scared to step on something." So, someone's noticed. "You're different. Why?"

"I'm not from here." I wanted to spill the truth, to tell him everything but I bit my lower lip to stay quiet.

He smiled once, as if catching a joke. "An Anglo like you, from here? Never would have guessed."

Okay, so I smiled as well. The guy knew when to bring up a light mood. I felt myself get better, my heart lightened. His happy eyes look up at the roof to the building before us, nodding subtly before reaching out, his hand tugging on my sleeve. "Come, my brother signals his task is done." I was curious and looked down at the basket, seeing it was filled with ink pots, bags of spices, what looked like a bundle of dried meats and a few trinkets that would probably be littered all over the bureau. A new incense burner, for example, sparkled in the sunlight as I recalled one sitting on the counter in the bureau, always a small stream of gray smoke coming from the crowned lid.

Why would he need another?

Being escorted by two assassins, twins at that, wasn't that bad, to be honest. I wasn't constantly looking over my shoulder but I did notice that there were some stares from many of those around us. I began to wonder if it was due to the assassins or if this was normal. "Heathen bitch." Alright, so I'm a girl in guy clothes, that's not normal, not here at least.

Upon arriving at the bureau, I entered through the back door, only to be kicked out again so that the big assassin, Sir Buzz Cut, could make way carrying a box into Malik's room. 

"What's going on here?" I asked, entering the bureau, seeing the big man come out.

He turned his hazel gaze my way, that feral smirk returning to his face. "Training."

What?

Lowering my shawl and entering the great room of the bureau, I was shocked to find Altair…shirtless. My inner fangirl screamed as she saw his sculpted body, lean for speed with muscle for enough strength to fight. Abs good enough to nibble on, biceps to cling to, to feel, his body a great spectacle to see, marred only by scars and it only added to his appeal. I blinked when he looked up, his left arm flexing as the hidden blade extended and retracted from his bracer. True, he was wearing pants, boots and his bracers, and I wasn't one to complain, but this was different. "Any reason why you're half nude?"

His golden gaze looked over to Sir Buzz as he and the twins moved the book shelf out into the courtyard before busying themselves with the chess set, my cushions and a few other look ends around the main room. "Training," the big man said again before he undid his waist guard, tossing it onto the counter, undoing the sash from around his frame then tugged at his robes, letting it all drop into a pile beneath him as his rippling form flexed.

You've got to be joking.

My inner fangirl screamed out and wondered where the mud was. Malik, however, was unfazed by this, he merely sat behind the counter, lifting his head up to witness what was going on before returning his attention to a book in front of him. "Safety and peace, Malik."

The Dai lifted his head, nodding to me before reaching out to take the basket. "Faster than I expected."

Guilt ate at me. "One of the twins got the things; I can't read a word of Hebrew." Malik lifted an eyebrow but didn't say a word as he pulled out ink pots. "Why are they doing this?" I asked, suddenly worried that I couldn't find a seat. The twins, however, found some, right on the counter top, watching both men ready themselves to spar.

"Altair needs training," was my answer. Why didn't Malik want to talk? I suppose he sensed my hurt because he sighed. "Sit," he said, making room on the counter next to him.

I blinked before climbing up, suddenly aware that I was right next to Malik and I willed my body to behave. The Dai took no notice of this, to my knowledge, and set what he could from the basket aside before my attention went to wear I heard flesh meet flesh.

Already, Sir Buzz and Altair had their fists up, balled and ready to go, a few bruises on their arms though nothing was compared to the bruises on Altair's rib and jaw from the Templar knight the other day, his skin coloring into green, blues and blacks from where his wounds were, though they were much smaller than I could imagine. Why weren't they larger? Bruises grow before the shrink, that's the way it was but his, it was like he was hurt maybe a week ago and these were left over from a major fight. What was going on?

"He heals quickly," Malik whispered, as if reading my thoughts. He stood from his seat behind the counter, hand closing the book before he leaned against the counter, his elbow meeting the surface. "Small cuts are gone with hours, major bruising, such as when he has now, disappear in two days." I nodded, turning my attention to the fighting men as Altair grabbed Sir Buzz in a headlock, only to be caught unaware as the larger man wrapped his arms around the assassin's waist, throwing punches at Altair's back and ribs. Altair grunted as his grip loosened, only to be caught off guard when Sir Buzz wrapped his arms around his legs, throwing him over his shoulder then dropped him on his back.

The twins made a hissing noise before they erupted into chuckles. Altair growled, his anger rising, his hands by his head as his body rolled before he threw his weight to his feet, throwing himself in the air and landing on the balls of his feet. Sir Buzz had backed up considerably, his hands making a motion for Altair to come at him.

I shook my head, turning my attention away back to Malik. "You allowed this?"

"The rule was not to break my things."

"Good rule."

I heard him let out a breathy laugh as I looked over at the twins, the kitten sitting in one of their laps as their fists were in the air, calling out to the ones sparring.

Men.

I'll never understand why it's such a spectacular thing to watch others fight; there wasn't any fun in it. I suddenly smirked as I remembered that I did fight as Altair in the game.

How long ago was that?

My gaze turned to the book Malik was reading, though the Dai was preoccupied with something else. Grabbing the book, I opened it, seeing the Arabic on the fragile pages as the book laid flat on the counter before me, my fingers following the inked words as if my skin could read what my eyes couldn't.

"Bad move! Bad move!" I heard the twins chant. I ignored this, flipping through a few pages, admiring the way the script flowed on the pages, very pretty and detailed ivy covering the pages were words weren't. My elbows went to my knees as my fists went under my chin, looking at the pages. "New fight! New fight!"

"Careful, Master, he's gotten a bit faster."

What?

I looked up, seeing that Altair was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his intense gaze looking at a…my inner fangirl vaporized. Malik stood before Altair, his robes gone, only his pants and boots covering his body as he held onto a bracer. His body was shaped very similar to Altair's though he wasn't covered in too many scars, but I could see where he had been burned on his left hip, there were faint scarring around his right shoulder but from what I could tell, that was it. Oh, his abs were just as yummy as Altair's, my lips begging to suckle on them. Altair's fingers grabbed the bracer from the Dai's hand before slipping it on and tying it for him, guilt in his eyes the whole time.

I just realized that at this moment, I was witnessing what many fangirls just dream about.

When the bracer was tied, the two bashed their forearms together, familiar rivalry between the two ready to be played out. Malik grinned as Altair suddenly swung at him, ducking down so the fist missed his head, kicking the other in the ribs, only to have his foot caught and held in place as Altair's own tripped the Dai.

The two of them landed on the hard ground beneath them before Malik's other foot lashed out at Altair's head, causing him to be released. The bureau was quiet, no one wanting to point out the clear disadvantage but no one wanting to root for Altair in fear of being kicked out of the bureau for the evening. Instead, the two men brawled, dodging familiar punches that were thrown, grunting when the lucky ones landed on ribs, hard stomach, even the back. Malik gained the upper hand when he recovered getting slugged in the stomach, his elbow finding Altair's already bruised ribs and as the eagle moved, he stood, pounding his elbow in Altair's back, making the other man fall to his knees, his hand to his ribs as he coughed loudly.

I was wrong about Malik's obvious handicap, that is, until I saw Altair's eyes shine, grabbing onto the Dai's ankles, tripping him before he pulled up enough to sit up, hands balled in fists as he raised them high in the air. My heart jumped, wanting to stop the two but instead, Malik lifted a leg, kneeing Altair's back hard enough to send the other toppling.

I didn't want them to be wailing on each other but I couldn't stop them. "Master Malik!" one of the twins shouted, unsheathing his sword and tossing it at the Dai. In his familiar ground, Malik caught the sword and swung it around gracefully, keeping his eyes on Altair the whole time. The assassin growled out as another was tossed his way.

"Wait!" I suddenly had an idea. Ripping off a piece of my sash, I dropped down from the counter, reaching up and tied it around Altair's eyes. "If you're training, Altair, then try to perfect every sense." Malik looked my way, a grin on his face as he nodded. I felt my face heat up before my fingers trailed down Altair's back, pushing against his hips, moving him forward. "Bon chance."

Taking my spot on the counter, I saw the big assassin looking at me, something in his eyes that looked like curiosity and interest. Ardeshir slid from his spot and within a few steps, he was sitting next to me, his dark eyes looking at the two men as he leaned my way. "He's interested in you, his new target." I shuddered and nodded, keeping my eyes on the two fighting men.

Malik twirled his sword, walking around Altair before Altair turned his head, swinging his sword wide to where he had heard Malik. The Dai shook his head, dodging it easily. I turned my head away, only listening to the metal of their swords clanging together. I didn't want to watch anymore, I didn't want to listen to it.

I wanted to tune it out, grab my music player and just listen to whatever was on my playlist but being here in the twelfth century, not exactly easy to tune anything out. But instead, my eyes looked up to see Altair blocking Malik's sword, the strip of fabric cut hanging from the knot suddenly fell from how sharp the blade was. Altair felt it trail down his shoulder, following the skin of his chest, raising goosebumps, I knew that much because his hidden blade suddenly sprang forth as his fist swung towards Malik.

Malik pushed away, his back against Altair's, rolling away. He was at a disadvantage again. I frowned before the Dai threw the sword back to the twin. "Enough."

My heart raced as the hidden blade disappeared back in the bracer, hands ripping away the blindfold. "Enough?"

Malik's eyes went to the bracer and I saw his left shoulder tense, as if he remembered his own hidden blade, his arm, his life as an assassin. "Enough." The assassin stared at the Dai, setting the sword against a wall as he nodded. No one said nothing as Malik left the room, heading back into the back, to his private room, if I were to guess. Altair followed suit, going to the courtyard, going straight to the fountain.

My heart tore.

To whom do I go to?

Altair? Or Malik?

-.-.-

Yes, this was a slight filler and no, you don't decide who she goes to, sorry. However, thank you all for being patient in my time of self-consciousness; I really needed time to think about my flames and thank you all of those who helped me in this ordeal. I love you all.


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter Forty-One

Disclaimer: I own nothing that UbiSoft has created.

A/N: Thank you all for your lovely reviews. I will have two chapters this weekend, and yes, this one is late but you know what, bleh, it was hard to write due to lack of activities.

Go to Altair, I have questions to answer, questions to give; go to Malik and I look like I pity him. But there was a much deeper, heavier thought: stay here and risk being tormented by the big assassin, regardless of the other two in the same room. Altair came away from one of the fountains, wiping his face with a rag, running it down his neck and chest, little trails of water following the curves on his muscles. I blushed and looked away, keeping my spot on the counter.

"Tomorrow." I looked back, seeing him pull on his tunic, pulling on the bottom before he looked back up at me. "After dawn," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. I blinked before it finally struck me.

That's when it hit me.

I haven't checked for clues to get home yet! I felt like smacking myself across the face for being so stupid and forgetful. How could I forget about suddenly arriving here! This isn't my home, not my world, not my time.

"Altair." He grunted. "I…I want to go back to where you found me." He blinked. "Please."

His tawny eyes looked away before they looked my way again, staring right through me. "You can go; I have my mission."

Frowning, I knew that his mission was much more important than finding out how it is that I got here, especially since he doesn't know I'm not from this area, this time, this world. If I were to find something, anything, maybe I could go home, maybe I could finally see my family, but that woman in Masyaf, she knew something and the Apple; the Apple was key. Logic hit me and I suddenly knew that I wouldn't find anything there. It's been nearly two months and if there was anything, it would be gone now. Panic hit me and I chewed at my lower lip, wondering if whatever I didn't get, whatever I missed within that time that I wasn't here, was gone, perhaps forever. My nose began to burn, my eyes stinging with tears.

No!

Blinking them back, I slowly inhaled so I wouldn't sniffle. There had to be a way to get home, there just has to be. Maybe I was right before, maybe I have to wait until the end? That could be for a couple more months and what if I am dead? Can I go home? Without warning, I felt a cold shudder rush over me and I'm suddenly light headed, making the room spin and wobble, as if it was a titter-totter. Putting my hand to my forehead, I closed my eyes, my other hand gripping the counter tightly. "Elisheba?"

"Dizzy."

Within moments, I felt the soft fur of a skin being pushed against my arm. "Foolish." Blindly taking it, I greedily drank all the cool liquid inside, only pausing to breath. The water hit my empty stomach like a ton of bricks. "You need to drink more," he said softly, replacing the skin in my hand.

Nodding, I drank more of the water, noticing this was colder than the last. Opening my eyes, I could see Altair standing nearby, an indifferent look on his face but his eyes told a different story. "I'll be alright, I just need to rest." What in the world…? No way! Right before my eyes, I couldn't believe I was watching it happen, a small part of Altair's bruise was disappearing. It was like time was speeding up. I was pretty sure that the one on his ribs would be gone just as quickly but if that meant that the bruises were disappearing. "Altair, your wound."

He blinked. "What of it?"

This was so unreal. "Are the stitches ready to come out?"

The assassin's hand went to his shoulder before it disappeared into the neck of his tunic, slipping to feel where the arrow had been, that is, if he could reach it. The arm move and his hand went out of his tunic as he rolled his shoulder, feeling out the wound some more. "Tonight." I nodded, thinking back to what Malik had said earlier. Altair heals really fast, like supernatural fast. Why? What could cause this to happen? I had heard rumor about his DNA, of Ezio's and Desmond's but I passed it off as nothing but now I wish I had heard more about it. The other three, the twins and the big guy, they were currently throwing jabs at each other in the middle of the room, being mindful that Altair hadn't taken a spot to designate as his during this mock fight.

Standing, I looked back over at Altair, trying to smile but failing horribly as I handed him back the skin. "I'm going to go lie down." He nodded. "If you'd like, I'll take them out for you." The assassin said nothing but watched, as the big assassin turned his gaze to me. I quickly looked away as Altair's shoulders squared, defensively and I knew in that instant, I was protected. No matter what happened, Altair would defend and protect me.

Leaving the main room and entering the back, I could hear the men continuing with their scuffles and though they were somewhat loud, the cloth that fell, covering the door made the noises muffled and I felt safe away from them, without worry of being hurt or stared over. The very thought of the big assassin looking at me with hungry eyes made my skin crawl. Going to Malik's private room, I felt afraid. What if I was disturbing him? Would it be worth it, just to get a few hours of sleep without worry?

Taking a deep breath, I raised a hand before rapping on the wood, listening closely. After a few seconds, I slowly opened the door, seeing Malik glance my way from over his shoulder, a white cloth in his teeth, his hand busy with something near his shoulder. "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you. I…um…I was wondering if I might get some sleep?" His dark eyes went back to me for a second before he spat out the white, his hand holding it tightly as I suddenly realized what he was doing: he was re-bandaging what he had lost.

"Why are you here?" he asked, keeping his eyes on his task.

Lowering my eyes, regretting going to his room. "I'm feeling dizzy." Looking up, I saw that he peer over his shoulder again. "Can I use your bed?" Malik said nothing, only returning to his task.

I felt like I was imposing but as I turned to leave, I heard him speak again. "You may." Looking back, I saw him looking at me, a smile teasing the corner of his lips. I couldn't help but smile and nod, feeling a little bit better. His eyes returning to his task, the smile gone only to be replaced by a grimace. Taking a breath, I made a rash decision and went to Malik, pulling away the white strip from his fingers as my other hand steadied itself where his arm was. "I don't need your help."

"Whether you do or don't, I'm helping anyways," I said, avoiding his eyes. I was surprised that he wasn't fighting me on this but at the same time, he wasn't doing anything to help me either, he just held still. I wanted to ask how it happened exactly, what type of wound it would have been before the infection set in and destroyed the use of his arm before it was severed. But I knew that I shouldn't pull up painful memories, especially since he had lost much more than just his arm.

He muscle beneath was still firm, but I could feel the lack of use begin to set in. If he were in my time, he'd have a prosthetic to replace the arm so he wouldn't have to be at a disadvantage constantly. I wondered as I wrapped the arm many times, if he were to have one, would he still have been an assassin? It would take some time getting used to the arm, of course, but the thought still plagued my mind. Yes, I finally decided, he would still be an assassin. After all, no one can forget what the body knows. But, this is where those happy thoughts turned sad, this isn't my time, this wasn't my world and he doesn't have one.

The wrap didn't take too much longer thankfully, and knotting it off, after making sure it wasn't too tight or too loose, I looked up at Malik seeing him looking at me back. For a second, my inner fangirl, who had made a slow recovery, suddenly came back and began flashing images in my head. Blinking, I blushed and quickly looked away, my fingers moving away from the bandages. I'm so close to him, I hadn't realized that I was but now I am.

The Dai moved away, slipping on the white robes, making sure to keep a good grip on the white fabric before he slipped his arm in the arm of the robe, his fingers moving quickly over the tied buttons in the front. I watched him the whole time before he held out his hand to me. I looked at his hand then up t his face, confusion set it. "Take it off." Take it off? Take what off? I looked back down and saw he still had a bracer on his forearm. Tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear, my fingers set to work undoing the knots Altair tied before the leather was loose, then pulled it off of his wrist. It was weird helping out Malik, especially since he doesn't want help; his pride was too great to stoop low and ask for it and too large to accept any. My assumption, he swallowed his pride long enough to ask me to pull off the bracer from his wrist.

I kept my gaze on the bracer, seeing him move away from the corner of my eye as my fingers traced the small details in the leather before I finally sat on his bed, looking up at him to see that he was putting on the jacket that inspired me to wear my dress. "You're leaving with Altair tomorrow?"

"Yes." I saw him nod as he made his way to the door. "Malik?" He grunted, turning his head. "Thank you." The faint smile played on his lips as he opened the door and left, shutting it carefully. I sighed before I lied down, grabbing his pillow and held it close as I felt tear sting my eyes. Why was I crying? I had no reason to cry and yet there I was, tears staining Malik's pillow as I bit my lower lip.

My heart was heavy and hurt as I rolled over, the pillow close to me as I pulled my legs up, my knees and feet against the wall. Was it because I didn't go to where I was found? Was it because in my mind, I doubted on my way home? That could have been it but I wasn't so sure. I was scared and my heart was torn.

-.-.-

Something rough kept touching my face, waking me up from the darkness that I supposed was my dream. Sitting up, I rubbed the sleep and dried salt from my eyes, looking all around. I was still in Malik's room and I was covered by a blanket, one I didn't grab. Someone's been covering me up whenever I sleep but I suppose that it wasn't that important. Searching, for what woke me up, I spied the kitten, looking up at me with those mysterious greenish eyes of his. I groaned and picking him up like a baby, I held him close to my face, his nose and mouth touching the tip of my nose, his paw on my lips.

I sighed and smiled, tucking the kitten under my chin, scratching his chin and chest. "You're a silly kitty." A knock on the door made me look up before it opened up slowly. "Hello?"

"Oh, you're up," I heard and saw one of the twins pop his head in. "You've been asleep for nearly two calls of the imam's prayers," he informed me. "It's getting late in the day."

I've been sleeping so much and this was a bit worrying. Moving the blanket away, I felt the kitten claw his way from my arms only to hold himself up on my shoulder while I moved away from the bed. "I'm up now." I turned away, looking back at the bed. "I'll be out soon." I heard the door close before I looked back up, my hand to the kitten on my shoulder. "It's strange, cat, that I should be so tired even though I sleep so much." I suddenly smiled and turned my head, burying my face in his fur. "I think I'm part cat with how much I sleep." The kitten purred, my fingers scratching at his neck just below his ear as he leaned into it, the rumbling getting stronger. "Motorboat."

Moving the kitten off my shoulder and onto the floor, I grabbed the blanket by two corners, folding it in half three times before folding it over itself twice, setting the square piece at the foot of the bed. This would have taken less time than I imaged but instead, the kitten kept trying to make itself one with my butt by clawing himself up my leg, stopping only once he's made his way to a cheek. "Hey, cat, you mind leaving the ass alone? I rather like it without claws being sunk in, thanks." No such luck however.

Leaving the room, I smelled something succulent and meaty. My stomach rumbled and roared when the mouthwatering smell hit my nose and demanded to be fed right them and there. Walking out to the main room of the bureau, I saw that two of the assassins were gone, one of the twins was doing some sort of exercise in the corner, Malik was behind the counter of the bureau, reading some book in front of him and Altair… Altair was on the cushions in the courtyard, his back pressed against the wall, asleep.

It was odd. I had never seen Altair asleep before so to see him just in a state of calm, it's a change. It was really odd seeing him look so…soft. The smell turned my attention away from the sleeping man to a plate of what looked like cuts of meat, drizzled in what looked like some sort of sauce and some spices. My mouth watered more from looking at it and I realized that I hadn't eaten anything other than the sugarcane from earlier.

"If you're hungry, get a piece," Malik said from his reading, turning a page carefully. The pages looked really thin and old as well, the ink nearly the same color as the page and yet, he was reading it without a problem. I wondered if I would ever learn to read Arabic.

Grabbing a small piece, one that was somewhat cool to the touch, I ate it quickly, letting the feeling of hot foot hit my stomach. It had been a while since I've had anything cooked like this. Dried foods were the only thing Altair and I have had and one can only go so far with dried foods. "Aren't you going to wake up Altair so he can eat," I asked Malik, looking back at the sleeping assassin.

"He's informed me that the two of you are leaving for Masyaf at dawn," he replied, a hard bite in his voice, as if upset by this piece of information. I made a noise and looked around. "The other two left. Bahram to his…lover and Jaegar to a smith."

"Jaegar?" It didn't sound like anything I was familiar with.

"German," he said gruffly, turning another page. What? Wait, why would there be a German in the brotherhood? He had no relations to that of anyone here and yet, he's an assassin! Malik looked up at my face and I suppose he saw confusion. "The master sends out many to take in those who were left without a family, boys mostly, to train. He likes to use other styles when out on the battle field and with the Templars growing more and more, we need it."

I smiled and nodded. "You'll see more techniques soon." He looked at me confused but I just shook my head and took another piece, eating it slowly. "What is this?"

"Lamb."

Yum! The twin, Ardeshir, sat up from his weird work out and motioned to the chess board, obviously wanting a game. "Sorry, I can't play. I'm horrible at chess."

"I could teach you," he offered.

I shook my head. "I'm alright. My father tried teaching me several times and it's never stuck." My mind was still back on Sir Buzz. Why is he an assassin? I could understand if he was found to have potential and then trained to be one but he doesn't act like an assassin, more like…more like a mercenary. He enjoys his work a little too much and it was beginning to upset me. I wondered if I would have to stay away from him even more now but that was a problem; I'm a girl with no training, no skills that would warrant a strong person, and he's an assassin, trained to be a killer, stealthy and strong, much stronger than me.

That's when I noticed that I was trembling. I was so scared.

A/N: Yes, this is late by an hour and a half but there is a second chapter coming up later. Believe me, it'll be up before Sunday is over my time so I apologize for those who will get second chapter on Monday.


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter Forty-Two

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that UbiSoft has created.

A/N: I'm excited for the new game! Ezio, oh, dear Ezio, I'm going to be so sad while playing this but happy, why? BECAUSE ALTAIR'S IN IT! Okies, back to the chapter. Also, I've received more flames and so I'll say this only once: This is my fic and if you don't like it, stop reading and saying that this fic isn't worth your time and effort because it obviously is since you've read to this point. So stop flaming me!

With the meat all gone and my stomach happy, I sat on my cushions, looking at Altair. Rule number one when dealing with a sleeping assassin: never wake them up unless you're a good, safe distance away. Rule number two: never wake up said assassin. I, of course, abide by these rules and was tossing pebbles at Altair, some of them hitting his shoulder, others bouncing off his arm and chest. Once, I hit his forehead and quickly covered my mouth so I wouldn't burst out laughing. He had stirred but never woke up. Malik had peeked over his book, watching me toss the tiny rocks.

One bounced off of Altair's cheek and his face scrunched together for a split second, before he rolled over. By that point, I was out of pebbles and bored one again, that is, until one of the pigeons from the courtyard warbled over to him, resting itself by his neck and got comfy. Birds and Altair, this doesn't really surprise me so much but it's a bit strange to see him with such a plain bird. "Shouldn't his stitches come out?" I asked aloud.

"If he awakes, yes." I turned my attention to Malik. "But I don't suggest waking him up."

"Not unless a hidden blade in my throat." I gulped and an image flashed in my head of Altair stabbing me. Would he grab my throat and plunge the dangerous tool in my heart, would he simply strangle me, or would he sit up, stabbing me in the process before sleep released his hold on him? I shuddered at the images, trying to shake them loose from my head. I'm scared of Altair, yes, so I think not waking him is a great idea. Yes, don't wake him up, very good advice.

-.-.-

Dawn came and with it, the feeling of someone touching my shoulder, waking me up. When had I fallen asleep? Last I remember, I shared a small conversation with Ardeshir over something trivial, something about the kitten. When I opened my eyes, my nose twitched and I realized that the very beast we had spoken about was currently trying to stuff his tail up one of my nostrils. "Wake up," I heard and through sleep filled eyes, I saw a blurry figure leaning over me. The touch grew more and for a small second, my heart jumped with fear as I sat up, scared that Sir Buzz was the one waking me up.

My relief, however, came to me when seeing that Altair woke me up. Groaning, I rubbed my eyes. "Why are we leaving so early?" I asked through a yawn.

"My mission is complete, there is no need to linger." Impatient much? I nodded and stretched as he stood, waking to the courtyard, bending over to pick up his blades. He seemed to be in a foul mood and Altair in a foul mood is someone to be given a wide berth. I did notice something, though. His bruising, along his jaw, it was gone, completely gone, like it was never there. There's no way it would have healed that quickly, even if what Malik said was true.

My mind suddenly remembered what my mother had said, that a sleeping person heals faster because their body is at rest and can work on fixing wounds rather than trying to get better when active.

Mom…

"Must you make a racket, novice? There are those trying to sleep!" I looked up, seeing Malik walk out from the back, bare-chested while his fist clenched. "You're making as much noise as a confined tiger. Cease at once."

Altair's head snapped to the grouchy Dai, his gold eyes narrowing. "I am not a novice."

"With how you act, you could have fooled me."

Oh, this would not end well. Stepping in, I stood up and got in between the two. "Stop, both of you." Looking at Altair, I frowned. "It's too early for this." Turning back to Malik, I willed myself not to blush though I was failing horribly. "We are leaving for Masyaf, Malik. Is there any provisions you're able to spare?"

The Dai's dark eyes looked to me before he released a breath. "Wait here," he said firmly, turning back to walk to his store room.

I nodded, though, it was moot considering it was to his back before turning to Altair, stomping my way to him. "You don't need to fight this early in the morning. It's childish."

His eyes narrowed. "We've said long enough and to stay even longer is not needed. I was ready to leave yesterday."

"You were hurt yesterday, recovering."

"I was fine."

I grit my teeth. "You were not. You were hit with an arrow from an English archer, remember, and from what I saw due to your 'need to act like a man', you were slower than usual against both Si- Jaegar and Malik. Against a Templar knight, you'd probably receive more than bruises." I sighed, my body relaxing from the sudden spout of anger. "Altair, please, at least act civilized while we're still here, perhaps it'll get you back in good graces with Malik." Something flashed in his gold eyes before they were hidden once again under his white hood.

"Get your supplies, woman, I have no more use here."

"My name isn't woman, it's…" I paused. He knows my name, my real name and that's what made me stop. He's never once called me by it, only by the name I've given him. Releasing a breath, I turned away from him, my thoughts all confused now, walking back into the bureau. The kitten, fully awake and ready for a day of fun, yawned before mewling up at me, circling my boots many times. "Scat, cat." The kitten only mewled louder. Looking up, I saw Malik come back, holding a pouch and a skin in his hand, passing them to me. Tying them to my sash, I suddenly felt like my place here was secure and it tore my heart more. "Thank you, Dai." The sound of scuffling behind me told me that Altair stopped waiting and had climbed the wall, going ahead. "How is the assassin Altair saved?"

Malik's head turned to the back, his eyes watching the doorway carefully. "Surviving. He'll be moving around within a day if all is well." His eyes flashed over to the courtyard before looking back at me. "Be careful out there, Elisheba."

I smiled and nodded. "I will be." I suddenly blushed, looking down on the floor to gather my wits before looking back up at him. "I'll see you again, Malik."

"Safety and peace, Elisheba," he said softly, his hand on my shoulder.

My smile grew, as did my blush. "Upon you as well, Malik." My inner fangirl screamed at me to do something but with my heart pounding, I only turned away stiffly, walking back to the courtyard and grabbed Altair's waiting hand as he pulled me up. With a nod to Altair, I turned back to the bureau for the last time that day and with a smile, I knew that I'd see Malik again.

Jerusalem was quiet in the morning, only people moving about were shops that opened early in the morning and I knew without doubt that an imam would be calling out the prayer song for the Muslims to begin their day with their prayers to Allah. "Do you know the way to the stables?" Altair suddenly asked.

"I suppose, why?"

"We're being followed."

Fear gripped me as I walked close to the assassin. "Is it a Templar?"

"No."

I gulped. "Another assassin?" Was it Ibraheem, who despises me for back talking or Jaegar who's taken it upon himself to name me his next target? Altair never answered though, just staying his course to get out of the city. I never liked being in between the cities, with too much sun and not enough shade but I was thrilled to be leaving, away from the German's hazel gaze.

We took a turn long enough for Altair's hood to turn to where he had sensed the assassin. "He's falling behind." I took this as a note to get the fuck out of Dodge. Altair's hand gripped my own and we were suddenly running to the nearest exit, trying to outrun the one tracking us down. "Keep up."

Easier said than done, prick. Still, I tried my best not to stumble around and with my stomach empty, it was making things harder for the both of us. It was a huge relief to see the gates of the city draw near and with it, freedom. The whole time, Altair's hand never left my own, and it never did, until reaching the stables.

My inner fangirl was disappointed but my fear kept me sane enough to keep a look out at the gate, watching for anything different. Something shimmered and wavered slightly in the morning sun, something that looked like heat waves or gas but it remained in one spot only and in the shape of a human. A ghost?

The shimmer turned a pale blue and for a second, I was able to see what looked like clothes waving in a nonexistent wind. Face formed and my breath was taken from me. It was a woman, so beautiful with her cat like eyes. Her figure made itself known as well and I could see that she was well endowed and for a small second, I felt as if I knew her. This gorgeous woman was dressed in something that looked like a belly dancer would wear, but the look of the fabric was rich and the way she held herself was much more than a common girl.

She smiled at me, holding a finger to her lips. Adha? "Elisheba." I heard faintly. The woman's face suddenly grew sad, like that of a heart broken angel before her form shimmered away, disappearing back to wherever it was that she came from. "Elisheba."

I turned my head to Altair, wondering if I should tell him I saw the ghost of his first love, but no, I couldn't. Instead, reins were pressed in my hand and my shoulder was met with a muzzle of my horse. Petting Glue's head, a name I couldn't believe stuck, I pulled myself up onto his saddle and nodded to Altair. The assassin however was leaning back on his horse, his hand feeling her side, eyebrows together in thought. "What is it?"

The man said nothing, only turned back to the mare and patted her neck, pulling on the reins as she reared up, hooves waving in the air before starting off for Masyaf, running as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. Rolling my eyes, I nudged Glue's sides with my heels and I took off after him, turning back only once to see if I could see the ghost of the only human piece of Eden once again.

-.-.-

When the noon sun was beating down on us, Altair finally allowed the horses to walk, petting his mare's neck once again. He was worried over her and I couldn't see why. She didn't look sick and she wasn't showing signs of trouble so what was it exactly that was off about her? "Altair?" He grunted. "Your horse, what's wrong with her?"

His eyes turned my way and I saw him frown. "It may be nothing," he said quietly, his hand busy at her neck. I worried over Anisa, fearing for the worst. There wasn't much that people could do for a sick horse in these times and if anything was ever wrong with them, the only option was to put them down. However, if Altair were to ever turn his blade against his mare, he wouldn't be right for a while. Silently, I wished for nothing to be wrong with the white horse, that whatever it was could be dealt with easily and without any problem. I didn't want her to share Kadin's fate.

For the rest of the day, we were silent, which I didn't really mind but I could tell that there was a lot on Altair's mind but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't pry anything out of him. He was shut firmly and I doubted that I'd be able to get type of conversation out of him for the rest of the day.

Toying with my charm, I bit at the chain, trying to think of anything other than the fact that I left Jerusalem without searching for a way to get home and then there was a possibility that there wouldn't be a way home even if I did find out where exactly I arrived from. What was I hoping for though, some sort of portal, a rift in a wall? No, the only magic that exists in this time, in this world are the pieces of Eden.

The dragged on and the heat made me sweat, the dizziness returning tenfold and I felt like we didn't have enough water in the skins. Having finished all mine, I lowered my head, my shawl providing barely enough shade. Stay awake, stay awake, stay awake, I chanted in my head. Stay awake, please, please, stay awake. I'm not going to make Altair aware of this and if all goes well, I'll probably be back to normal after sitting in the gardens. I panted, seeing the world titter-totter while heat waves were coming up from the sand, looking so much like water.

This shouldn't be happening to me, not this fast, not to this extent. I started to become dehydrated just yesterday and I slept instead of getting drunk off of water. Some program on the TV said that I should have drank myself until I couldn't fit any more liquid in my belly but instead, I slept and perhaps I've worsen my situation and now, I'm seeing mirages.

Stay sane, Elish-Elizabeth, stay awake, stay sane.

Altair turned my way. "You're tired."

I let out a breath. "I'm fine." He didn't look convinced. "Stop worrying about me, I'm alright."

"I am not worried." Snorting, I shook my head. "You ran out of water how long ago?"

Looking straight up, seeing the sun as much as I could through squinted eyes, I shook my head. "Some time ago." He made movement in his saddle. "I'm fine."

Damn it all to hell, he wasn't listening to me at all, instead he tossed me a skin, one I caught clumsily. "You need water."

"I don't need help," I muttered but nonetheless, I drank what was in the skin, a cold wave hitting me, starting at the back on my neck as it flowed down to my hips, a constant surge of cold waves as it flowed over me. "I'm just dehydrated." Looking up at the assassin, I sighed. "I may not have gone this far before but I'll be alright." He didn't look convinced but asked no questions.

I was grateful for the water but what surprised me was that Altair moved his mare to my other side, his shadow being my shade, my source of comfort. We stayed this way for many hours, even to the low setting sun, even well into the night. The whole time, Altair watched while I slowly drank water, never once moving or changing course. I had nodded off a few times during the night, only to be woken up by his hand on my shoulder, steadying me so I wouldn't fall.

We stayed like this until noon the next day, where he stopped long enough to stop at a somewhat large village for him to barter off some of his coin for water. Meanwhile, I saw women carry jars, breaking them before horses as white powder flew out. I watched on, seeing a couple on pure white horses walk over the powder. The woman was covered from head to toe in a richly decorated chadar, gold and silver bands and chains and cloth covers what the chadar already does. "What are they doing?" I asked, Altair, watching them closely.

"The local royal family. They're dropping sugar to favor them. The queen is expecting a child and if they are favored by their god, they will get a son." His voice wrapped around the last word and I felt a sense of wanting from him. He wanted a son. I closed my eyes, remembering the tower in Acre. My heart shattered into a thousand pieces. "Come, we have a day and a half to reach Masyaf and you're in need of more water."

I had felt awful, Altair had stayed up during the night to ensure that I was well. I was draining Altair's energy just by being dehydrated and even though I was keeping up the pace, I felt more of myself being drained. Outside the village, I could still hear the villagers sing praises in their royals' honor but the words were beginning to muffle in my ears.

-.-.-

I don't remember what had happened during the rest of the journey except that when I woke up, I was clinging to Altair's back, the two of us in water as his hands were under my knees. It was cold but welcoming. "Where are we?"

"The river that runs through Masyaf." His hood turned my way. "Are you well?"

"I'm freezing my ass off but I feel alright. The world stopped spinning so that's a good sign." Licking my lips, I could felt that they were smooth again. This was a good sign, it meant that I was hydrating. "You didn't have to submerge yourself with me, Altair."

His hood turned away. "It was no trouble."

From the looks of where we were, we were where the women gathered their water supply. We were just downhill from Al Mualim. "You still have a mission to do."

"Are you well?"

"I am." His grip released me and as I felt the bank beneath my feet, I gripped onto his robes and steadied myself for the long walk up to the library. "What was wrong with the mare?" His gaze looked away. "Did you…?"

"She lives," he said curtly, his hard gaze on mine. "The stable master is looking over her now. If all is well, she will continue to live."

The walk to the library was long and uneventful, except that Abbas had looked at us funny, our wet clothes were somewhat of a sight. But the library, oh, the wonderful library, cool and refreshing and it was wonderful. Al Mualim leaned over the edge of the railing from the second floor, a warm smile on his face. When we stood before him, my heart stopped at what was on his desk.

The Apple.

"Come in, Altaïr. I trust you're well rested; ready for your remaining trials?"

Altair nodded, his head low in a bow. "I am. But I'd speak with you first. I have questions."

Al Mualim nodded and waved a hand forward. "Ask them. I'll do my best to answer."

Taking this to take a step closer, Altair's fist clenched. "The Merchant King of Damascus murdered the nobles who ruled his city. Maj'd Addin in Jerusalem used fear to force his people into submission. I suspect William meant to murder Richard, and hold Acre with his troops. These men were meant to aid their leaders; instead they choose to betray them. What I do not understand is why."

The master of the assassins nodded, his hand stroking his beard. "Is the answer not obvious? The Templars desire control. Each man, as you noted, wanted to claim their cities in the Templar name; and the Templars themselves might rule the Holy Land, and eventually beyond. But they cannot succeed in their mission." I rolled my eyes.

"Why is that?"

"Their plans depend upon the Templar treasure, the Piece of Eden. But we hold it now. They cannot hope to achieve their goals without it," he said and while this was true, I still felt uneasy by this. When Al Mualim held up the Apple, I felt my heart stop and I quickly turned my head away.

"What is this treasure?" I heard Altair ask.

"It is temptation," Al Mualim said, as if sounding like he just won something.

"It's just a piece of silver..." Does that mean that even now, he can't be controlled?

"Look at it!" Curiosity got the best of me, I turned back to Al Mualim and opened my eyes.

Gold flooded my vision…


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter Forty-Three

Disclaimer: I own nothing that UbiSoft has created.

A/N: So, last chapter seemed rush, I am aware. It was supposed to. Delirium in a dehydrated state will cause loss of time in the mind. Chapter is a week late, I know. Last Saturday was kid brother's birthday. I wanted to be with family so you'll have to forgive me for this late chapter.

Mumbles…

Voices…

Adam…Eve…

Pictures of two naked people behind bushes, in old paintings, Eve holding up a bitten into apple, a snake coiled around her arm…

Staves…snakes…

Images of a wooden rod slowly morphed itself into a cobra, its hood spread in worship as its tongue flickered out…

Parting sea…

Two huge waves suddenly crashed against each other, rising higher and higher before they split, like a great force was pushing them apart…

Eris…chaos… War…

Blood pooling under fallen men, in their hands, locked in a death grip, weapons. Bows, swords, spears, guns…

Water to wine…

Christ sits on a rock, his face in a gentle, serene look as he raises a chalice and the liquid inside turning red…

The voices murmur in the gold… their words are painting images in my head…

Suddenly, the gold vanishes and a hand is shaking my shoulder. "Elisheba."

I blinked a few times, trying to capture my breath as I held my hand to my head. "What?"

"Go, Altair, I'll see to it that she's well rested," Al Mualim said. The assassin looked uneasy but nodded, giving me a final look before walking away. "Child," the assassin master said softly. "What did you see?"

"I'm sorry?"

The man didn't repeat himself, instead, raised the Apple once more. "You will answer every question I have truthfully."

Gold spread over my eyes, filled my head and I was caught breathless.

-.-.-

Gasping, I was kneeling in front of Al Mualim, him holding an orb in his hand as he regarded me with curious eyes. "Master?"

He smiled but the look did not fade from his face. "On your feet, child."

"Yes, Master."

He paced in front of me, his face full of thought, the hood covering his eyes. "What you have said has filled me with wonder and curiosity." What have I said that could have made my master feel this way? "And yet, you've retained what I have told you."

"Master, forgive me for speaking out of place, but you're speaking in riddles," I said softly, my eyes lowered. Never look into the eyes of Master Al Mualim, it is unwise and shows insubordination and I wish to please my master.

I saw Al Mualim's boots stop suddenly before a soft breathy laugh came from him, filling me up with warmth. "So it would seem. Look at me, child." Very slowly, I raised my eyes to meet his, worried that I had done something wrong. "You are pure, are you not?"

I nodded. "Yes, master, no man has…no, master; a man fondled my breasts…" I said softly, lowering my gaze. I had failed my master before I had a chance to please him. I felt tears sting my eyes and before I have a chance to blink them back, I'm drawn into a hug. He's hugging me and I let my tears fall as quietly as I could.

He pulls away after some time and raised the orb in front of my face. "Forget," he whispered. Gold danced around my vision, pulling something away…

I blinked, wondering why my face was wet. Why did he say forget? Was there something I was supposed to have remembered? "I have been crying…"

"You are tired, child, go, rest," my master said, a very warm look in his mismatched eyes. I merely nodded, my hands followed my tears. Why was I crying? I haven't cried in front of Al Mualim for some time so this isn't new but it's still shocking. "You have my leave to go."

"Yes, master." It was strange; I had never before called a man 'master' so it felt wrong to call Al Mualim as such. Leaving his presence, I felt…different. Something wasn't right about me, something was odd.

Entering the gardens, the two guards by the door made me pause. Their eyes…they were glazed over, as if they hadn't gotten any sleep for the past few days. I felt tempted to wave my hand in front of their faces…why? Was that normal? I shook my head, entering the gardens, feeling much better now that I was there. It's safe in the gardens, with the other women. I'm not in danger here.

Taking a few steps in, I smiled when seeing the lush grasses of the gardens, hearing the water trickle from the fountain as the garden girls were talking amongst themselves. "Elisheba!" I turned my head, seeing Mysha run up to me. Stopping short, she reached out with her long arms and held me close. "I've missed you! Where did you go this time? Did you see anything new?"

I laughed, rubbing my friend's back before putting a hand to her womb, smiling the whole time. "Both of you are eager to her my stories?" Her hand rested on mine as she nodded. "Then let me bathe and I shall tell you."

Within moment, my hair is being freed from its braid, falling into waves as I pull off the sash around my waist, the tunic following. "We were in Jerusalem this time. The city is just as beautiful as I remember it with many people all around in the bazaar, each one searching for something, whether it was food or drink or something they needed, each one of them was loud in their search. The bureau was calm and quiet though. I think Malik prefers it this way," I said, stripping out of my dirty clothes.

"Malik? Malik Al-Sayf?" Mysha asked, a confused look on her face. It was as if she was expecting something to have happened to the man.

I nodded, confused to her confusion. "Yes, he is Dai, rafik of Jerusalem. Is that wrong that he would be in Jerusalem?"

Mysha then lowered her head, as if afraid. "He is a cripple, Elisheba. He is no longer an assassin."

This confused me. "How would that affect the way he works in a bureau as the bureau leader? Why should it matter at all?" Then, something raged in my head. Logic hit him hard. Malik wouldn't be able to many of the things that someone with two arms would do, but why does that matter? But it confused me even more. I felt as if he should be ashamed of whom he is, of what happened. No, that wasn't right at all.

I felt like I was arguing with myself but why should I be? It didn't make sense to me at all. I didn't understand it. Mysha just shook her head as if I was the one who wasn't making any sense. "Tell me more, not of the bureau, but of the city. What was it like? Were there many people?"

I nodded, having some problems with my boots before I finally let my slacks fall to the ground. "There were many. Hebrew, Islamic, even Christians; all of them, living in one city, could you imagine? And they were slaves! I had never seen one before." It was true, I couldn't even think of seeing one in person. Something said it was wrong. No, it wasn't. It's the way of the world, there are slaves, regardless, but still something in me said that it was wrong, that slaves shouldn't be around. The wooden tub was quickly filled as I sat in it. "I didn't see many children; I had heard a few maybe but never seen any."

Mysha smiled as she grabbed a brush and began to work on my tangled braid. "Perhaps there were but they were all cut purses," she teased. I let out a breathy giggle before wincing at a knot she was brushing out. "Or, perhaps they were trying to imitate the assassins. There are many in Jerusalem, not just those who Malik commands. Master Al Mualim does have many assignments for others, not just for Altair. It's a wonder how he keeps everything organized." I nodded, agreeing with the statement. How would it feel to run an entire organization such as the Creed? I don't think that I would be able to do it.

Within seconds, however, my hair was wet due to a suddenly fall of water. Very cold water. Screeching, I turned my head, seeing Mysha laughing as she was holding what looked like a clay vase. "Must you do that?" I screamed, irritated that I now had something cold running down my back. "It's bad enough that I cannot bathe properly while traveling."

The young girl just rolled her eyes. "Did you not bathe when you were with Malik? Surely he would have provided you with a bath?"

I sighed and shook my head, not wanting to think of the German assassin. I could still feel his hazel eyes on me, as if searching for my soul. I would perhaps never feel right with him around me and I hoped and prayed that I wouldn't see him again, especially here in Masyaf. Was he the one that stalked Altair and I? Perhaps he was. "I never asked, he never offered," I said, reminding myself of the bandage on Malik's arm. He never asked and I never offered, I just helped without his consent.

Her nails dug into my scalp. "Perhaps you'll stay in Masyaf for the time being," she suggested as I heard bubbles pop in my ears. Perhaps…

The water washed over my head again as I scratched at my skin, the nasty gray texture that collected under my nails. Looking down at them, I realized that they had grown much longer than I remembered. My hair would be longer too, I was sure. I hadn't noticed, I probably never noticed in the past. Even when I cut my hair short. Wait, not, it's not right for a woman to cut her hair, it's unheard of, then again, my hair was not as long as those of the women here in Masyaf.

Once again, water was dumped over my head several more times before a brush ran through my hair, the tangles and knots all gone. "Where will you go now?"

I thought about it, two cities flashing in my head along with two faces, both of which didn't make sense to me. I had never seen these men before and yet, I know what they look like. "To either Acre or Damascus, depending on where Altair would like to go first." To Damascus, where a blood bath happened before my eyes or to Acre, where any moment, I would be mistaken for an Anglo and who knows what would happen then. I must figure out if I should continue to travel with Altair. "I should find him, to ask where it we'll be leaving for next."

"And where do you think you will go?"

I shrugged, having no idea what went on in the assassin's head. "If we are to go to Damascus, I will have to decline," I whispered. "And the rafik in Acre does not like me." However, I did give my word to Kalil that I would be back in Damascus… Once I was fully clean again, I left the tub, drying myself off quickly as I changed into fresh clothes, feeling as if something had changed, that something was missing. It felt…wrong.

"I'll be back later today. I have a feeling that we'll be here for a day longer," I promised Mysha.

I didn't wait for another word, instead, I quickly made off into the library. I didn't see Master Al Mualim on the second balcony, instead, I saw a scribe quickly setting a pile of notes on his desk. What were the notes for? The Master is wise but does he really need to know even more information about the world? Perhaps he wishes to gain more information on the world, perhaps new fighting styles? I don't understand it at all but I pass through the library without problem.

There weren't any training in the ring and there certainly weren't any guards around. Was it because there weren't any novices in the ring? Maybe…

Inside the fortress was quiet but not all abandoned like the library or training area, it was just eerily quiet. Something tingled at the back on my head, trying to gain my attention. What was it?

"Elisheba!" I heard. Turning my head, I smiled at the approaching assassin teacher. "It is good to see you again."

"You as well, Ra'uf. How are your students?" I felt so safe around the kind teacher.

His eyes crinkled, suggesting he was smiling behind his half mask. "As well as they can be. I have heard that he is nearly back to his former title, is this true?"

Sighing, three faces passed in my head, faces of men who I should know but don't. "He is impatient, always wanting to gain another ranking as soon and as quickly as possible." Turning to Ra'uf, I noticed his mask was pulled away as he chewed on a piece of dried meat, passing me one before his teeth ripped off another chunk. "Have you seen him? There's something I must ask."

"Down by the river. He goes there after every mission, regardless of time. You should find him there." He then stared at where he mentioned before looking back at me, a look on his face that was a mixture of worry and a mixture of content. "I would be on my guard; he seems to be in a very impatient mood."

I giggled and nodded. "My thanks, Ra'uf."

"Safety and peace, Elisheba," he said as he walked away, back to the library.

"Upon you as well."

A swell of joy filled my chest like a warm bubble as I was being accepted by those around me as a normal person, one who comes and goes like them, who they trust and wish well when in passing, such as those in the village do. Perhaps once or two I had to pause briefly, seeing those with a lost expression on their faces, a hollow and blank look in their eyes, like they were in some sort of trance. Perhaps it was the sun getting to me again.

Petting my wet braid in hand, it much longer than I remembered, I passed through the village, the sounds of the people around just as loud, just as busy as ever. Seeing a familiar face of a young child, I smiled and waved to her in response to her own waving. Her mother wasn't around but the child looked busy so I chose not to get distracted by the innocent child and head to where the assassin was at the river.

A woman with a pot of water balancing perfectly on her head had passed in front of me, making me stop short for a moment before more women passed in front. What was happening? "_Mashallah_, she's beautiful," I heard from a gaggle of women. In the middle was a mother holding a swaddled bundle, a little hand coming from it, latching onto the finger of the mother. "And she's so strong."

Feeling a gentle calmness filling me as I passed by the scene, I held a smile on my face as my boots kicked up a small stone, it bouncing off the ground in several beats. There was a familiar path I was on, the path to the river, one that the women traveled, carrying jugs or their clothes but there was a smaller one, almost unnoticeable. I have been on this path before, just once. I was…I was following a woman, I think…

Traveling it, I kept looking back, as if expecting someone or something to pop out at me but nothing followed. The river was loud as the sound of people died down to the roaring waves; even the women at the banks were quiet. There, a familiar boulder.

Rushing to it, I quickly climbed the familiar rock, seeing the back of a man in the waters, the cold liquid only to his waist as his hands busied themselves around his shoulders. His arms twisted as fingertips felt a new scar, right where the arrow was. Looking at it now, I realized that I gave him a crooked stitching. I felt ashamed, like I had done something wrong even though it was my first time ever giving stitches.

Altair's head turned my way, gold eyes locking onto mine as a hand went to his wet hair, ruffling it as water shook off, the locks now standing straight on end, like spikes. His head turned back to before him but only for a brief moment. His torso moved first, his head and hips following as he began to walk back to the bank.

Water shone on his body as drops fell down his muscles following already made paths of scars. The waters soon when from his navel and began to lower as I realized I was still watching. A blush hit my face as I saw that the assassin had what suddenly rang in my head as a happy trail. What was that?

Wait. A naked Altair was walking my way.

-.-.-

Mashallah is a phrase with many translations, mostly meaning praise be Allah. It would be said in terms of good happening.


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter Forty-Four

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that Ubisoft has created in any way shape or form.

A/N: Second chapter of the day. Altair's happy trail demanded that I write more of it. Um…yeah, this chapter has torture. I warn you now. Next weekend we will be back to the regular schedule.

My face burned as the nude Altair continued to walk closer. My eyes stayed on this happy trail before the water showed more. When seeing part of another piece of flesh, I quickly averted my eyes, covering them with my hand as my mind plagued me with images of what I didn't see. My ears began to burn as I desperately wanted to cover them as well. Why, why did I let my eyes linger in a spot that was forbidden to be seen in the first place?

I felt dizzy, like I had been in the sun for too long. Too much blood was rushing to my face; I knew that, something told me that it was happening. When hearing Altair pass by, I took a chance and removed my hand from my eyes, catching sight of his derriere. Squeaking, I covered my eyes once again, this time with both of my hands, the heels digging their way into my sockets. "If you didn't wish to look, you should not have come."

Somehow…I felt that that was a poor choice of words because my womb flipped.

He's nude, he's by me and all I can do to prevent myself from doing anything that would demand action was by keeping my eyes covered. "I came to ask a question, not to view your naked self," I said, trying to get the tremor out of my voice. I felt hot, in want and need.

"Then ask, do not just sit there," he said, his voice sounding dark and husky. Why torture me, Altair?

Biting my lower lip, I drew my legs close to me, quickly wrapping my arms around my knees. My knees replaced the heels of my hands and proceeded to further dig into my eye sockets. "It's of where we go next," I replied, my voice muffled. Why is it so hot?

His voice was suddenly next to my ear. "What of it?"

Squealing, I somehow stumbled off of the boulder, landing on my bottom as I looked up at a worried Altair as he leaned over the side. "I'm alright." Alright? "Where do we go next? To Acre or to Damascus?" I asked, standing and brushing myself off. I've made a complete fool of myself.

"To Acre. Kalil has reported that something odd was happening in Damascus but nothing too serious. In Acre, there will be Templars. It is one of their ports." Nodding, I carefully crawled back up the boulder, seeing that he was somewhat decent, a cloth wrapped around his waist. However, this cloth was somewhat sheer and I could make out what I briefly saw all over again. I tried to keep my gaze from it, I really did.

To Acre then, where something bad will happen. I have a feeling of dread deep in my gut that I will not like this mission. "I probably won't be joining you on your mission to Damascus," I said quietly, the blush on my face dying down. "I had faced death once before, I shall not do it a second time."

Altair blinked, his eyebrows twitching for a small moment as his head tilted slightly. "I doubt that you would come that close to dying a second time."

I frowned. "I'm a traveling companion to an assassin whose sole purpose in life is to kill others. I do believe that I will meet death one day, Altair."

"I will not be by my hand," he said softly, leaning close.

My heart pounded, the blush returning as I froze completely still. Is he… will he? I shouldn't let this happen, I can't. And yet, I want to kiss him again so much. I felt the heat of his face near mine. I can close the gap, our lips would meet in a sweet moment. But as I tilted my head up to kiss him, he leaned away. "You're odd. One moment, I believe I've understood you, mysteries and all, and the next, you change again."

"Change?" What did he mean? I felt upset that I was denied a kiss but relief hit me instead. Why should I be relieved that he hasn't kissed me? I wanted to kiss him! My womb did a flip but the mood was ruined when the tower in Acre suddenly flashed in my head. Oh.

He didn't say what he meant, only, instead moved away, to get off the boulder. "Altair, wait. Your newest scar, let me see it." His head turned, his golden orbs looking my way. "I wish to see my work."

He sighed and took a step back, his lower back pressing against my knees. My fingertips barely grazed against his soft skin as I felt the crooked scar. "I should have done better." His head turned my way. "I don't like how I did this."

He turned around, his hands on either side of my knees. "It's a scar, it will most likely fade," the assassin said.

"Not all scars fade," I whispered, my fingers growing bold, touching his scarred lips. The stubble on his upper lip tickled my skin before my nails followed the scar to his chin. "How did you get this? I can never figure it out."

"Training." His breath whispered over my fingers before he moved away, grabbing a pair of slacks. "I didn't block an obvious move."

I smiled, shaking my head. "You're lucky it wasn't your nose that was sliced." He didn't turn my way but when the hand at his waist moved the cloth to fall, I quickly looked right up at the sky. My, what a pretty blue it is too. "When do we leave?"

"Two days from now." Looking back, I caught the last bit of his pants sliding up his hips. My breath caught in my throat. "The horses need to recover." Altair then turned my way. "As do you. You're still red in the face."

I looked away. Oh, I was red in the face but it's not what he thinks.

However, he looked at me, a knowing smirk on his face.

He knew…

"Prick." I slid off the boulder, walking past him as I saw him slip on his boots. Why did I just call him that?

My head was spinning, I felt dizzy all over again. "Two days, Elisheba," he called out behind me. I waved a hand above my head, showing that I had heard him.

The road was steeper than I remembered, the ground wasn't level or even. My steps were wobbled and unsteady before I felt my eyes roll and my weight over power my body.

-.-.-

My eyes opened and I was in a bed. Sitting up, I looked around the room. I was in a sleeping quarter of the dormitories, lying on a bed. I was still clothed, even my boots were still on but there was no one else around. The window showed that it was darker outside, many hours of my day just flew by. Why? What was caused that? I'm not dehydrated and I'm sure that I ate something so why?

Master will know. Master always knows.

Getting out of the bed, I cried out as I realized that my legs were numb, as if they were asleep. What's going on here? I pulled myself up, rolling over to rub my legs. The boots don't cut of circulation so why in the world were my legs numb? Hearing a sigh, breathy and heavy, I turned my head. Nothing, the room was empty.

Finally pulling myself to stand, I looked around the room for a second time before I left. I have to find Al Mualim, I have to get my answers now!

The dorm was quiet, much quieter than usual but it was late, perhaps they were sleeping. Slipping through as quietly as I could, I listened for anything odd and once free outside, I raced straight to the library. Though my lungs and legs burned, I had to know! He's keeping something from me, I have to know what!

The training ring was still empty and the guards near the entrance weren't there anymore, instead, the shadowy figure in the window looked down at me. "Master." Heading inside the library, there was no one here either, the garden doors were closed and locked but inside was just as quiet. Hurrying up the stairs, I stood before Al Mualim, panting hard. "Master! I need answers."

The older man turned around, in his hand was the orb. Just what was that thing? "Your questions, child?"

Stepping forward, I spread my arms out. "I have recently been getting sick and with every day, I get worse and just now, I had lost many hours of the day!"

He tilted his head, regarding me with those mismatched eyes. "Missing hours?"

"I was with Altair by the river and then I passed out. I woke up in a bed in the dormitories! What's happening to me?" My master stepped around the desk, his hand not holding that mysterious orb coming close. "Don't touch me!" His hand froze, as did the look in his eye. "Something inside me tells me that you know much more than you let on. I demand you tell me what is happening to me!"

"Not another word!" He roared out, raising the orb.

"Bu-" My voice! Putting my hand to my throat, I tried to speak, but nothing came out. What did he do?

"So, you have begun to turn back. It seems the longer I use this, the more control I have." Control? He has control over me? "When you spoke of a world with air inside a closed home, of water that flows with a touch of the hand, I had my disbeliefs before I saw them with my own eyes. And now, you are the first to begin to break free. I will not allow this!" The orb glowed brighter as I felt my body straighten and tense.

Al Mualim smiled. "Now, I have wondered what this could do. I would have tested this out on one of the novices, a garden girl, but you are here now." The orb balanced on his palm perfectly. "Feel a world of pain."

It was like fire! I could feel as if every bone in my body was breaking, like hammers were shattering my bones, knives and swords were ripping at my skin, tearing them. Burners, hot pokers, branding me as my muscles ripped and tore, my limbs torn from their sockets. Pain from the inside, like my organs rupturing, bursting, exploding with a gentle touch like a feather, skin peeling from my flesh. I was being stabbed, ripped apart, chocked, and broken into a million pieces. I wanted to cry out and scream but I had no voice. I could only wish and pray that this would be over quickly. My teeth were ripping from my head, my eyes dug out, every orifice bleeding profusely and yet, when I opened my eyes, none of it was real, none of it happened. Instead, I was on the ground, curled up, tears falling from my eyes as I shook.

What magic is this? What evil had possessed my master?

Al Mualim was watching me, clearly excited by whatever it was that he just witnessed. "So, pain. I wonder if it does with pleasure as well."

No, please, Al Mualim, no!

Mercy was granted on me however and relief washed over me. "Another time. Forget." I blinked up at my master, shivering as my hands wiped at my eyes. I was crying again. "You must be hungry and tired, child. Go to Alima, she will see that you are fed and well rested." He set the golden orb in his hand back in its cradle on his desk. "You have my leave to go."

Standing and bowing my head, I let out a breath, one I didn't know I was holding. "Thank you, master."

The stone steps were solid under my feet as I walked down to the stairs, entering the gardens. Something made me stop though. Weren't these closed and locked? "Back again, Elisheba?" I heard, seeing Alima walk close to me. "You're in time for some supper, come, eat."

"Alima, these doors…"

The garden mother looked at the grated door before looking at me. "What of them?"

"Weren't they locked earlier?" I could have sworn I had seen them locked.

Alima shook her head. "No, child, they have been open all day. Come, the food will grow cold if we do not hurry."

What was going on?


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter Forty-Five

Disclaimer: I own nothing that UbiSoft has made. I bow down to them, they're amazing.

A/N: I honestly love this fic to death. And OMG! I've read the new book, I cried. I cried huge globs of tears. Also, thank you to Mismatched-Lover, she's been drawing a lot of Always Watching fanart on deviantArt. I'll set up links in my profile once I revamp it. Also, debating on taking a small break, not too long, just long enough for me to getting my bearings. Lot has happened.

The food was bountiful, covering a large and heavily detailed _sophreh_ completely. Large bowls filled with rich fruits and vegetables, nut and dates in one corner, all of it making my mouth water. "What is all of this?"

"A feast. There has been a good trading caravan that has passed by just a few days ago. There has never been one such as this for a year," Mysha said, pulling me down to sit next to her. "These are some of my favorite. You must try the halim bademjan; it is especially good," she said, pointing out a particular dish. It looked like onion slices and some eggplant with some sort of meat. I wouldn't know until I bite into it of course.

"And of course, the dates are exquisite," one woman said, her smoky eyes turning to a brown bean like fruit, her ringed fingers dipping into the bowl, taking a few at a time as she popped them in her mouth. "The flavor just bursts."

Taking no risks into diving into foods I didn't know, I stuck with what I recognized. "So, where are you off to now?" Mysha whispered to me, feeding herself some sort of greens.

I looked up from the foods, knowing I'd be caught sooner or later. "To Acre, in two days. Altair received an arrow wound in Jerusalem and he must have been burdened having to take care of me on the way back," I whispered.

Mysha looked at me, concern full on her cute face, it filling her green eyes. "What happened?"

"I fell ill." I honestly couldn't remember from when I passed out to where I had awoken in the river, clinging to the assassin but there were still two days in between. Perhaps he'll tell me what had happened during that missing time of my life, perhaps. "No matter, our two days here in Masyaf will prove to be beneficial to recovery."

She frowned suddenly. "If you're sure."

"I'm positive." I somehow felt different by saying this but I felt as if this weird feeling will pass, I was sure of it. Taking a bite of the meat, I confirmed it was lamb, thankful that it was something that I recognized. "However, when we leave for Damascus, I don't know if I will go." I didn't want to remember the frozen faces of the dead, of the pleading eyes of the girl just a few months older than Mysha. So much blood, so much pain and suffering.

I never told the garden girls about death, never that one day, it would visit them as well, only the less violent memories, knowing that they'd be pleased with the visuals I had given them. "You spoke of Malik earlier," Mysha reminded me, the gaggle growing quiet. "Is he well?"

"Malik? Malik Al-Sayf? I remember him. He was a good assassin," one girl said, a blush on her cheeks. "And very good in other fields." I frowned, growing jealous.

"So, speak of him again. How is the Dai?"

"He's made Dai, oh how wonderful!"

I lowered my eyes. "He is well as can be expected. He's a very hard worker, always busy with some book or map." A smile touched my face as I thought of the Dai. "He's still unkind to Altair."

"Of course, Altair's brash actions cost him what he held dear."

"Poor Kadar, he was a sweet boy," an older woman said, her eyes downcast, eye brows raised in remorse memory.

Images danced in my head of what little I saw of Kadar. How could I have known what he looks like, I never met him? I had came into Altair and Malik's lives while Altair was on his way to kill Talal. Three out of nine, that's where I came in and now, on his way to assassinate the seventh, I'm still by Altair's side. I feel as though I have some purpose here, like something is drawing me in to stay here, as if I'm to see something. I have no idea.

I suddenly didn't feel well, my stomach lurching. "Excuse me," I said quickly, standing as I ran to the bottom of the gardens, leaning over the side as my stomach purged itself. What was it that has made me so sick? I've never been this ill before.

Perhaps it would be best if I stay in Masyaf, in fear of getting worse, slowing Altair down even more from his mission. Fear hit me as I raised myself up, landing hard on my butt, a hand cleaning the sick from my mouth, another to my stomach.

Do I have the plague?

No, no, I couldn't! I haven't been near anyone sick? The patients in Acre, the dying in Damascus, I've been near them though. But it wouldn't have affected me, except, I am of European descent, I could have easily caught it as one would catch a ball. No, I'm not ill with the plague; it has to be something else. But what? My dehydration wouldn't have affected me this badly, I am certainly not pregnant and I have not eaten any bad food or…

No, the jerky…

I've been ingesting bad meat. But wouldn't that also affect Altair since he eats it as well? No, no, he doesn't eat as much as I, he's used to skipping meal times whereas my stomach still roars at me should I only have one meal a day.

A goblet pressed into my arm. "Here, you're beginning to look like me in the mornings," I heard, taking the silver cup in my hand. "Are you like me?"

"Bad meat," I said, standing as I washed my mouth out with the wine, spitting it out completely until I couldn't taste the sickness anymore. "I've been poisoning myself, it seems." How long until I recover though? I sighed, setting the goblet on the railing, looking back at Mysha. "I wasted good food."

"We all do at some point in our lives," she answered, sounding wiser than her age suggested. "Will you sleeping here in the gardens tonight?"

I nodded, looking out to the mountain range presented in front of me. "I suppose I will." After all, I've got nowhere else to sleep.

-.-.-

Night time had brought out the nightmares again, but these, these were odd. They were with things I had never seen before and yet, I was terrified. These huge beasts suddenly coming my way, different colored, all glinting menacingly and yet, right before the beast and I collide, I'd wake up. This was throughout the evening. I felt exhausted and scared by the time dawn had brought the new day, revealing that my nightmares were just that, nightmares. However, I was lost on who I could turn to for these matters. I couldn't run to the master; the dreams of one girl were trivial to one such as he.

Lost and alone, I barely conscious of my actions, moving around without second thought, having eaten the fruits the garden girls had, leaving the library before the master could go to his roost. With the training ring empty, the cavern in which the library was located was eerily quiet. The guards, forever holding onto the weapons at their hips, but their expressions were that of a lost soul, as if they were looking at something that wasn't before them. Such emptiness.

The fortress was not as quiet though, not when the assassins were waking up, stirring and moving about, young boys hurrying to go to wherever it is they learn, older men, some with gray in their beards, heavily adorned with weapons, walked proudly, their shoulders back, hoods up as they traveled to their destination. "You, girl," I heard, recognizing the rough voice.

Turning my head, I spied Abbas looking over at me, his arms crossed. "You don't belong here, keep moving."

I sighed, turning fully to face him. "Then tell me where it is I must go since you claim I don't belong here." I may not like the man but I'd attempt politeness with him.

His eyes narrowed. "To wherever it is you came from, Anglo."

My hands curled into fists, nails biting into my palms. "I am not an Anglo."

"Your appearance alone says otherwise. And you dress as if you were a man, how fitting for an English witch."

"Witch? And how would you know if I was a witch? I have done nothing to make you aggressive, Abbas." Crossing my arms, I looked at the man before me, seeing him curl and unfurl his fists. "Please, Abbas, I have done nothing to you, save for keeping my distance. I'd rather not fight you again." I had an urge to call him brother, hoping that it would gain some sort of trust between us, but instead, I held it back. I would rather keep my neck blade free.

He snorted though, walking passed me but his hard shoulder hit against mine as he turned his head, as if I was the one at fault, spitting my way before continuing on. Not knowing what was wrong with him, I stayed my distance, not getting near at all.

I trusted my feet on where to go, the village perhaps. There was something missing in my life, something I needed to search for. What though? With Mysha in the gardens, Alima watching over her protectively, I knew it wasn't one of them. I felt weird being in Masyaf, like I didn't belong. That's preposterous, of course I belong; I've been accepted my Master Al Mualim so why do I feel this way?

I let my thoughts distract me before I realized that I had walked all the way to the training fields. A man in the middle, wielding his sword with grace. I smiled when I recognized this man, staying still as I watched him. "Don't you have other things to do than to watch me," I heard as the movements stilled, the sword going into the sheath. "It seems that I can't go anywhere without you being there."

I smiled, lowering my eyes. "I merely followed my feet; you're the one they lead to."

"So you claim." I looked up, seeing him cross his arms. "What is your business being here?"

"Can't I walk wherever I please?" He frowned slightly but his eyes told a different story. "How's the mare?"

He looked to where the gate of Masyaf was, his eyes squinting from under the sunlight. "She's as well as can be expected. She will stay here to recover, however."

"You will use a different horse then?" I wondered if he would use mine but then which one would I use?

He turned my way and nodded. "Anisa will not be my mount so I assume the obvious would be to use a different horse." Okay, I deserved that.

"What do you think we'll face in Acre?"

"A Templar, no doubt. However, every man is different," Altair said, looking at me. "You're hesitating."

"I am." Taking a deep breath, I held myself. "In Damascus, I saw so much blood, heard all these people dying. I'm forever haunted by it so I'm wary of going outside of Masyaf now."

He nodded, setting a hand on my shoulder. "When I've slain the last of the nine, you can stay here. With my title restored, I won't be needed you to report to Al Mualim." Guilt ate at me at the lie but I nodded anyways. "Tomorrow, to Acre."

"To Acre."

Dread filled me even more.

-.-.-

A _sophreh _is a large blanket that people ate off of.

Halim bademjan: onions, eggplant and lamb meal.

Yes, next week I will not be updating, I want to take a small break and hopefully this will be enough. I'm doing this for several reasons; one of them being that I think it's unfair that I only give small chapters nowadays so hopefully the break will get my rear in gear.


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter Forty-Six

Disclaimer: I don't own anything UbiSoft created. I so wish I did though, I so wish I did.

A/N: So, there are several reasons for my break but thankfully it gave me enough time to write and going back and rereading all your wonderful reviews reminded me of where I was originally going, of what I needed to get done. Thank you all for everything. I dedicate this chapter to all of you, my loyal and faithful readers. It doesn't matter if you review or not, it still gives me love to know that you're all still reading this fic and have been for so long!

It's quiet now, Ra'uf called Altair away for help with his students, leaving me to think. In a day's time, I would be riding back to Acre, perhaps for the last time. I had hoped it was, the thought of watching someone else die before me, it made me quake all over. The grasses of the fields were soft, much softer than I had expected and watching it move in the dry wind was like magic. Every piece reflected the sun while being in shadows with other pieces, the hues blending together. Growing tired, I laid down onto the wonderfully soft grass, feeling the wind caress my skin.

The sky, the perfect blue that it is, marred only by the fluffy clouds, high above me gave me a sense of being small, tinier than what I really am and that in this vast plane of existence, we're all tiny.

I closed my eyes for a small second and it was like lightning hit me. I shouldn't be here. But why? Why shouldn't I be where I've always belonged? I'm by my master's side, I'm helping out my friend, I'm doing what many women don't.

Images flashed in my head. A box of some kid with moving pictures, some of them are of my master and Altair. A computer? What's that?

It's what I play on. That's right, I remember that now. What's a computer? How would I know what that was? I've never before heard of that word.

_Your world…_

Like my nightmare, I suddenly see the large metal beast come towards me, a memory I've had? But this time, instead of waking up, I watched it all the way through. The metal around me crushes, glass shatters and covers me; my body is limp and is breaking, my head pounding at a wheel before me as I'm choked by something around my body. My eyes fly open.

Like a light turning on, I remember everything now. I'm in a different world. No, that can't be right. There is only one world and I'm in it so how could I be from a different world? But that image, that horrible image… I feel like I should be in pain, like I should be crying out from it all but instead, I remember opening my eyes to Jerusalem. Was it all a dream? I try to remember what happened before but it's all a blur. I see faces that I don't see any more, I hear voices I haven't heard here, structures, buildings, things that aren't here.

I feel like my head is splitting but something familiar fills me. A warm feeling that I get when I think of my mother… Where is my mother? Where is my family? I gasped then, tears filling my eyes as I realize that I haven't thought about them. Why not? I should be out looking for my family, looking for home, but something tells me I won't find them here. Why? Are they dead? Two numbers come to mind and I stop. No… Quickly doing the math, I found the difference between the two. It's a large number…

Are those years? Does that mean…I'm dead? No! I am alive, I am breathing; there is Allah's life in my throat, touching my heart! I am alive! But then…the smashing of the two beasts, something tells me I wouldn't have survived…whatever that was. But I'm alive, I'm here!

Am I going mad? Has the sun finally gotten to me?

"Hey!" Something kicks my boots, making me sit up. I look at who it was, seeing a familiar face. Ibraheem… "The master is looking for you."

As he turned heel, to walk on, I held up my hand. "Wait." He paused, his hood looking back at me. How could I ask him something like this? Then again, he did see me three times before. "Ibraheem, answer me this: where did I come from?"

The assassin turned to me, his arms crossing. "You think I know? I first saw you in Jerusalem. I assumed you were a courtesan Malik had paid for but instead, he informed me that you arrived with Altair. Before that, who is to say? Perhaps the fool would know."

Altair knew, of course, he has to know where I came from, what brought me to Jerusalem, why I have these things in my head. No, he wouldn't know. Something told me not to tell him what I'm seeing but he has to know, he has to have the answers, right? No, he wouldn't. I woke up in Jerusalem alone. I didn't meet him until the next day.

I felt so lost and confused. "Are you coming or not?" Ibraheem asked, impatient as ever.

Standing and brushing myself off, I followed the crabby assassin, wondering what Al Mualim would want. Surely it isn't for something obvious… "Why would he call me? I'm nobody."

"You're right about that." I frowned at the words, but I couldn't find a reason to be upset by them. They were true.

Here, I am a nobody.

The long trek back up to the fortress was one that I wish I could have made alone but instead, I had the easily angered Ibraheem with me. The sun was getting low, bathing the lands in a deep orange light as it hid itself behind the fortress, giving off a holy light to the assassin's guild, filling me with a sense of dread and hope all in one.

As the old sun sets, a new one will rise…

A foreboding feeling swept by me and for a small second, I was given clarity. I could see fallen men, each one with different wounds, all of them gripping a sword, even here in the village…but higher up, the dead are nowhere to be seen, only the living as they crowd the library…

What was that? A vision of death? But why?

The faces of the dead…their faces…they were of fear or surprise, but instead, they held no expression. I know that in the ring, they are to hold back their emotions but these, it was as if they were void of all emotions, of everything they once were… Why am I seeing such things? Have I gone mad?

The massacre in Damascus is getting to me again…that has to be it… I have to forget what happened there.

My feet knew the path I was going and in the alcove of the library, there wasn't any sound. Looking around, I could see many assassins standing nearby, all of them facing forward, all to the library itself. Why?

As I turned my gaze to the same direction, gold flooded my vision…

-.-.-

The rising sun woke me up, blinding me with its powerful rays. Groaning, I covered my eyes with my arm as I rolled over, feeling blade of grass tickling my skin. Huh? Sitting up, I looked around, noticing I was back in the gardens.

"How did I…?"

"Good morning!" Said a voice, startling me to look around, seeing Mysha bending at her waist as she looked at me, a happy smile painted on her lips. "I'm surprised you woke up at all, you were so quiet last night."

"Last night?" It happened again. I lost track of time. But how? How could I lose a single evening now? The last I remember…I was in the field with Altair…but after that, I don't know. How in the world did I end up back here?

Mysha's cool hand touched my forehead, moving whatever hair fell from my braid away from my eyes. "Are you well?"

Blinking, I moved her hand away, keeping a gentle smile on my face. "Of course, why would I not be?" However, this was distressing. I'm losing hours out of my day at a time. This is not good.

"You'll be leaving soon, correct?" Leaving? Oh, yeah…to Acre. How did I forget? "Will you tell me about it when you return?" When I nodded, she squealed for joy, standing up as she clapped her hands together. "I can't wait to hear all about your adventure."

Her perkiness knew no end. Smiling, I nodded, having a feeling that everything would be alright. Maybe, just maybe, this feeling will last with me for a while. I hoped so.

Standing, I excused myself as I brushed whatever dirt and grass clung to my person, making my way through the library. As much I admire Al Mualim, I feel like it's…I don't know, strange for me to walk under him. I had heard of tradition…from somewhere…a Persian tradition of a groom standing over a bride as she walks in her new home… but that's just some silly tradition. It's not mine so it shouldn't affect me…and yet, I still can't get over this weird feeling.

"I see you're awake." Ra'uf. A light energy filled my chest as I nodded. "Safety and peace, Elisheba."

"Upon you as well, Ra'uf." His students looked my way, nodding once, perhaps in respect, before returning to their mock duels.

Five days…five days to Acre and five days back. With however long it took for Altair to slay his next target, I could be spending so many days away from Masyaf. I shouldn't be worried about that though, that's what something inside me told me, that I should be happy to get away. Yeah, maybe I should be.

Going through the village, I could hear people moving about in the small bazaar, hearing some of the wares, well, before something caught my eye. Altair jumped off a cliff from behind a building and emerged, dusting himself from the hay. "You're early," he remarked, joining me on the way out.

Shrugging, I suddenly felt dread over come my heart. "I just remembered, the rafik of Acre doesn't like me."

"He doesn't really like anyone."

"Well, he really doesn't like me."

Altair just shook his head, the hood staying in place as we left through the gates. As I made my way over to Glue, he paused, reaching into a stall to pet Anisa's nose. She wouldn't bear him n this journey, not with something wrong with her. I hoped that it wouldn't be something life threatening, I'd hate to see Altair put down another horse, especially one that he was so close to. Anisa made soft noises to him as he muttered to her, whinnying loudly when he began to walk away.

Poor girl.

Altair threw her a backwards glance, something I would probably call longing but as he turned his head away, I could tell that he couldn't keep looking back, that he had a job to do and that even though he'll miss his mare, he's still an assassin.

As I mounted Glue, I watched as Altair tightened the saddle of a brown horse, slapping its flank once before climbing up, pulling on the reins to guide it away from the village. Looking once over at me, he nodded, his heels nudging his horse's side as they began to trot off. Following, I looked back once, seeing Anisa throw her head back, crying out loudly before it fell, sadness pooling in her deep brown eyes. I had seen that look before, the look of a break heart. She had it when Kadin died…

"She's going to miss you."

"I will return."

The sweltering heat of the day had swallowed up the rest of the conversation as we started our way to Acre, on the five day journey. By what I assumed to be noon, I could already see that there wouldn't possibly be any room for conversation.

Still, with the heat of the sun on our back, we pressed on.

The first evening had rolled by unannounced and setting up camp didn't give us a problem, however, as I watched the fire dance with the amber of Altair's eyes, I realized that I didn't want my life to change. I was safe and content with the assassins and as long as I didn't betray them, I posed no threat to them. But the feeling of my empty heart was still too much to bear.

I missed my family too much. Lying on my side, facing the coals within the flame, I wondered just why I was here. Not here traveling with Altair, but my purpose here on this earth.

"Troubled?"

I looked up to see that Altair was watching me, his hand to the flame to warm his hand. "A bit." I looked back at the flames, my arm resting under my head. "I'm homesick, that's all."

"Homesick?" I heard him rustle something. "You never spoke of your family before."

I sighed, closing my eyes. "My parents and my brothers…brother…then there are my grandparents and my aunts and uncles. All of them are close to my heart."

Altair took a breath. "You have a large family. How were you separated? You kept mentioning an accident. What do you mean by it?"

Worrying my lower lip between my teeth, I let out a heavy breath. "I'm plagued by nightmares of what I believe had happened to me. I'm always traveling somewhere and what I'm in collides with another but I always wake up before the initial contact. I feel that this is somehow connected to my separation with them."

What came next was a shock. The assassin's hand rested on my head, as if telling me not to worry. Taking his hand in my own, I felt a little bit better. I fell asleep that night without dreaming, good or bad.

-.-.-

The next day rolled by as if nothing the previous night had happened. Everything was just as calm, just as quiet as before but as we passed a small caravan of English soldiers, I couldn't help but wonder just why they were so far from their king. My companion did neither attack nor draw near the soldiers, just kept a wary eye on them, his iris flashing quickly.

Eagle vision…

Right. Four different colors: blue for allies, red for enemies, gold for targets, and white for everyone else. I remember that. He never told me though, instead, I remember pushing something and hearing a noise, like I was dunked in water, sounds being muffled before colors changed. I wonder, what color would I be? Certainly not red, I'm not an enemy nor am I a Templar, but I wouldn't be gold either; I'm not a target…I hope. That leaves blue and white and while I'd rather like being blue, I think I would prefer to be white as well, knowing that I'd still be around.

So those Englishmen, would they be red? But they weren't aggressive so perhaps not and I didn't spot a familiar red helmet so there wasn't a Templar Knight among them. I suppose only Altair would know the answer to my questions; he is, after all, the one with the vision, not I.

"Altair." The man grunted. "I have a question, about something you did earlier." His hood turned my way, showing that I had his attention. "We came across a snake one day and you picked it up with ease. How were you able to do something like that without getting bitten?"

His head turned back forward. "Hundreds of years ago, there was a ruler who was assassinated by an asp. During that time, it was common for one to carry around a venomous viper, in case one was to lose everything in their arsenal. It is still a common practice to deal with snakes however, no one carries them around anymore for such purposes."

I blinked. "You're somewhat of a snake charmer?"

"No. I do not use them to do tricks to fetch coin. Venom is a powerful poison, a weapon." He frowned suddenly. "It's also a coward's tool."

But that didn't make any sense. "Wait, how is it a coward's tool when it severs the same purpose as a hidden blade to the throat?"

Altair turned his head. "Because when one is left with just a viper, they'd rather use it to themselves than to use it in battle."

"You said something similar about this after Abul Nuqoud's party. What did you mean?"

"He ran from his problems, using poison in hopes that it would drown the hurt. The arrows were for those who weren't as affected by it. He used it instead of killing them with just arrows, knowing that they'd still die."

I closed my eyes, trying not to let the images of the blood bath fill my head. I could still feel the cold blood covering my body and the burn on my nose.

Wait. Stop. Plant an idea in his head.

What?

"Would you use poison, like they did in ancient times?"

Altair looked up to the sky, a frown on his face, it twisting the scar on his lips. "Perhaps." I could see that he was thinking hard on this idea. I gave a small smile, suddenly seeing a hidden blade, a small hole on the tip as it is jabbed into the arm of a guard wearing bright livery, suddenly getting very dizzy and acting crazed. Yes, he will give it much thought.

-.-.-

A/N: BACK! Yeah, sorry for the long wait, I've had many things come up. I have started on a second fic however, and once I get the first chapter done, whenever that is, I'll post it up. It won't have a schedule like Always Watching, but it will be worth the research. Thank you all for being so patient with me. I LOVE YOU ALL!


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter Forty-Seven

Disclaimer: I own nothing that UbiSoft has created.

A/N: See, still here, still alive, still well. Thanks for your reviews last chapter; they brought my spirits up when I needed them. This chapter is late, I had a lot of hours at work and always came home too tired to write, HOPEFULLY you're getting two chapters. So, here we are: the next chapter.

The net three days were spent in silence, with only a few words passed between us but not much to say that we had a full conversation. However, I did feel weird during the whole trip, like I was anticipating something. My nightmares had returned, the same dreams over and over again but as I woke up every morning, I slowly remembered what they were. It felt like…a part of me was returning…

However, it was just a feeling. Perhaps I was a bit tired from being under the sun for a long time. Though my shawl did give me some protection, maybe it just wasn't enough…

My train of thoughts was erupted by a call of a gull as it soared past me, screeching in my ear. "Why do they do that?" I muttered, rubbing my ear now. I didn't like gulls. They were pretty or useful, they were like rats, picking and scrounging whatever they could off of floating water.

Altair turned his head before his golden eyes followed the white bird. He then narrowed them, noticing something. "There's more than usual."

"Pardon?" I looked to above the city we were approaching and sure enough, there were a lot more birds in the sky than what I had ever seen. "Those can't all be gulls…" A loud cry out made my head turn as I saw dark birds, larger than what I had ever seen, all huddled around something, looking like death itself. Vultures. "Something's not right here." The image of the docks flashed in my head, making me put a hand to it as I tried to figure out what I just saw. I haven't seen the docks of Acre and yet, I just imagined thousands of ships in one harbor. That can't be right.

The city of Acre was in trouble and the closer we got to it, the more apparent it was. There were hardly any caravans around the city entrance, and barely a stall open for travelers. At the gate of the city, the guards were posted but they were double the men. What was going on? Altair led us to a small building, one I recognized from before but instead of many horses outside the walls, there were only three and they were so thin and sickly looking. "We have no choice," Altair said, looking around for hay.

As I dismounted, I pet Glue's nose, feeling him lip my palm. "Don't worry, we'll be out of here and back in Masyaf soon," I promised, not wanting to leave my horse in such a bad place. The other reached its head to rest its chin on my shoulder, huffing loudly. Altair's borrowed horse was trembling, looking tired. It wasn't used to long distances. I scratched its neck, swearing to return as soon as possible before I left them. I felt so horrible for leaving them, with little hay, moldy oats, and dirty water. Not a clean place at all. Their king would have been furious if he should suddenly return.

"What is that smell?" I asked out loud, trying to cover my nose. The stench was horrid, like death and disease. Altair didn't answer, instead, watching the guards as they stopped everyone who entered Acre, what little crowd it was, studying them. A small group of monks made their way to the gates, only to be stopped with everyone else, their hoods ripped away. I looked over to Altair who frowned. Without warning, he ripped my shawl away, pulling it free from my body. "Hey! What gives?"

"Tie this around your hips," he said, handing me the shawl. "And don't get in trouble."

I snorted as I tied the fabric around my waist. "I'm not the troublemaker here," I said but it was to no one. Looking around, I saw Altair quickly climb a wall, his fingers catching onto a beam as he pulled himself up, jumping from beam to beam as he entered the city above the crowd. "Prick."

Making my way to the gate, my heart hammered in my chest. Already, I could hear the men as they were harassing those getting in the city. It was a good thing that Altair took a different route, the guards stopped anyone with weapons, confiscating them and pushed those with said weapons back out to two other guys. I watched as those two were beating one guy to a bloody pulp. I wanted to stop them but what good would I have done. I'm a woman, not an assassin. Still, I felt the need to help.

"Move along, girly, we don't have all day," one guard said to me, grabbing my upper arm, hauling me into the group. Already, I heard lewd comments being made, trying to ignore them all, even the wandering hands. I wanted to fight back, to make them regret touching me but I couldn't. Biting my cheek, I had to remember that I had to get in the city, even if that meant I had to get through all this.

Keeping silent, just in case I should slip into Arabic, I finally made my way into Acre, the smell so much stronger than outside the city. Waste and filth covered the streets, building up on the corners of the buildings. Rats and mice picked through whatever they found as they scurried through the feet of the people. My stomach heaved as it threatened to purge itself as I saw sick with shit and piss. This is disgusting; have the English have no pride? Why would they do this? And the stalls, what little they were, were trying to get rid of bad food. Their wares were covered in flies and maggots, even as they were saying they were fresh. My stomach nearly gave out as I saw this.

I regretted coming back to Acre.

And these people, they were living in poor conditions, even children, as they looked around for food with their soulless, empty eyes. I could hear the beggar women complain loudly, trying to get money from anyone that would walk by. The patients of Garnier were walking still, but their flesh was withered away, almost all of their bones showing, many of them curled up on the sides of the buildings, dead or dying.

Who would do this; leave their people in such poor conditions. Seeing the familiar white robes, I turned my head, seeing the anger in Altair's eyes. "Richard wouldn't do this. He wouldn't leave his subjects to rot like this."

"No, he wouldn't. This is someone else." The golden orbs were looking around, the anger growing. "Don't touch anything."

"I have no intentions in doing so. I'm not catching this sickness," I said quickly, wanting to leave as fast as I could. "Go to the rafik and find your target quickly. Maybe their death can give these people some relief."

Without hesitation, Altair nodded, tugging on my sleeve for me to follow. I didn't want to, I seriously didn't want to go deeper in the city; just being near the gate was enough of a visit for me. However, I didn't want to stick around, to witness anymore of this. Keeping up with the assassin, I jumped when a rat ran over my boot as it moved away from a body. I nearly screamed when I saw the corpse, but Altair grabbed my arm, pulling me along. I was shaking all over.

This city…it was death… When William was still alive, it wasn't as horrid. Though there were sick people around, the city wasn't this bad. But William was only regent, he barely left his fortress so he wouldn't have seen his people in this way. Still, as regent, he saw that there was food going out to the markets.

Too many people, not enough supplies; what a tragic way to go.

I wanted to complain but what would my complaints do to this city? Nothing but adds up with the rest in a forgotten alley. This war, this stupid crusade, it's killing so many who weren't on the front line. Who would do this?

On the roof of the bureau, Altair looked in the grate. "I'm not welcomed in there," I said before waving a hand at him. "Go on, go report to the rafik, I'll be out here." He didn't hesitate to get inside but did look back up at me to make sure I'd stay put. I'm not a dog her can order around, however, I have no intentions on moving. Looking around, I could see part of Acre, its gray drab still very much present and though it was somewhat alive, I could tell that death was waiting around the corner, ready to take the souls of the departed away.

This city, its people, all of it, suffering because of one man. This is why assassins fight the Templars, to free cities like this from the mad and crazed ruling of one who doesn't care for the innocent. Sibrand. Why does that name sound so familiar to me? I feel as if I know it, that I know this man, but I don't. I've never heard of him before and I've never seen him so why would I know his name? There was something about it though, something that filled me with hatred, anger, and sadness. What though? I'm angry at him for what he's done to this city and the people. But, the other feelings have no just reason to be there, to affect me.

Looking around, I spotted the tall steeple of the church, a sense of peace filling me up as I remembered the priest who had helped me. I hoped he was still well and that he was not suffering like those around him. However, it would be unlikely that he would be in some spoiled surroundings. Priests and monks were to be chase and piety that they'd live a life without richest, almost always starving, even if it meant helping out others. Still, I hoped for his wellbeing.

Hearing boots on stone, I turned my head, seeing Altair scramble up the wall, a sense of peace on his face. "I take it things went well."

"Oddly enough, yes." He sounded surprised but there was warmth in his eyes that I knew would give him ambition to finish this mission early. "Will you deny me of your assistance?"

I looked at him confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you know something about Sibrand that can end this mission quicker?" he clarified, speaking slowly as if I wasn't right in the head.

Images flashed in my head like lightning, making me cringe. "I don't know, nothing's making sense anymore." Putting a hand to my aching head, I closed my eyes. "I see some many things but I can't tell which is real. I don't know which are memories and which are just my thoughts."

A steady hand rested on my shoulder, forcing me to realize that I was dizzy. "How long has this happened?"

"I'm not sure, I don't remember. Everything's a blur…I feel like I'm missing something, I just don't know what." When the hand's grip tightened, I pulled away. "No, I'm alright, really. It's the sun," I said, hoping that he'd stop concerning himself over my well-being. "Go, Altair, go."

The man stepped away for a second before nodding, turning completely to jump along the rooftops. I don't need a babysitter. Babysitter? Why would someone sit on a baby?

Climbing down to the streets, I tried to cover my nose as I saw someone piss on the side of a building. How vile.

Still, I wanted to get out of the city faster and in order to do that, I might as well help out the assassin, even though I'm breaking my word, again.

A/N: Alright, I realize this is short. Stress has gotten to me and I don't handle well over it. Don't worry; you'll get your second chapter later today.


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter Forty-Eight

Disclaimer: I don't own anything UbiSoft related.

A/N: Alright, no offense to my English (Britain English) readers for my last chapter. I've got nothing against them so I apologize while I still have skin on me. Also I didn't update last weekend, I was too excited of a vacation and so these next three, maybe, were written in my hype.

Drunks, the sick, the dying, the dead, all of them were scattered in the streets. I couldn't stand to look at them, they were so pitiful and I was broken hearted just seeing a crying baby in the arms of his dying mother. I couldn't help them, I couldn't even take it upon myself to push someone away. I felt horrid for just walking by but what could I do? I am no one, I'm just stuck here, in a time, a world, that wasn't my own!

Wait…I'm not from here…

I'm not! I'm not native to these lands. I am Elizabeth, not Elisheba. I am neither assassin nor am I Templar; I'm just a sale associate at a store. I am me.

How could I have forgotten all of that? Why did I suddenly remember? Was there something that was suppressing my memories, suppressing who I am? But why? I have…

My memories…

I can change the outcome of this war, I can change what happens next. Because I'm from their future, I can predict what happens. Someone is making sure I don't know anything, they're making sure that I'm just like everyone else, just as lost and clueless. But why? I can act like I've never seen these lands before, that I've never heard of the Crusades or of Richard, of Saladin, any of it.

Who would do this to me though?

Looking up, I gasped, realizing just how far along we are, of what could happen. Sibrand, the paranoid Templar. I'd have to find Altair and… No, I can't. I'd screw everything up.

Should I just sit back, just wait it out? No, what if something's wrong? What if Altair can't make it to where the target is? Sibrand, the only target I felt bad for killing in the game. When he died, I actually had to stop playing long enough to assess what would happen to me. Sibrand, he reminded me that I am mortal, that I can die, and that I wouldn't know what would happen after.

As I shook, remembering my thoughts during that time, I felt someone bump into me. Turning my head, I caught sight of a Templar knight, his helmet as crimson as freshly spilled blood and yet, he was staggering. Was he tired? I followed him, watching as he swayed. "All ships need to be registered with Master Sibrand," I heard a herald call out. I rolled my eyes, realizing that the further along I went with this knight, the stronger the smell of the sea.

The salt air was cleaner than the stench that resides in the city. Opening my mouth, I took in a deep breath, tasting the salt as I could begin to hear the sounds of water splashing. Just how close were we?

"It's getting worse," I heard, passing by a two gossiping knights.

"His paranoia knows no bounds!" The other ground out angrily. They were talking about Sibrand.

Pausing to act like I was looking at a building, I could hear their armor clink together as they shifted their weight. "He's doubled our shifts; no one sleeps." The poor men were tired and in these conditions, they would fall over dead.

I pitied them. "It wasn't so bad until he decided to make the port his home!" Another shift.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the one bend close to his companion. "He's planning something at sea, that's why he came here," he whispered. Sibrand wasn't stationed in Acre originally? Where was he before this then?

His friend took a step back, an incredulous look on his face. "Planning what?"

Another walked up, not as heavily armored as the other two but his clothes were of better quality. His blond hair looked dirty, like it hadn't been properly washed, his gloved hands rose, motioning between the two. "What's the meaning of this?" He asked, almost sounding worried. "The two of you off in a corner, whispering, plotting?" he asked, his voice getting louder with each word.

The crowd around us began to slow, their heads turned to the three men. The two knights shook their head, fear on their faces. "Nothing of the sort. We were only-"

"Only what? What secrets are you keeping?" the third interrupted, as if he wanted to everything at once. Nosy man.

"You misunderstand," the knight said, bowing his head, fearing to get the blond man angered more.

The blond waved his hand, his face pulling into an angry glare. "Damned assassins! They're probably here right now, watching us." He then turned to no one in particular, giving me a view of his back. A quiver full of arrows was strapped securely there. This was Sibrand. This was Altair's next target. "Do you find this amusing?" He shouted, arms waving in the air, his head turning to the faces that gathered around. "Do you?" He then turned back, a nervous grin on his face. "Laugh while you can!"

He then turned to his men, his back straightening. "Double the patrols," he ordered, a cool look in his eye.

The two knights looked at each other. "Which ones?"

"All of them!" Sibrand answered, throwing a hand in the air, waving a hand over Acre.

I shook my head, not understanding why the man was getting so upset. "But we don't have the men!" one of the knights countered, trying to make the paranoid man see reason.

Sibrand then grabbed the knight but his armor, shaking him. "Find them! Recall our knights from the field if you must!" He then pushed the armored man away and turned heel, walking from the scene he created.

I shook my head, seeing the two other knights look at each other before the trudged off, looking for their fellow brothers in arms. There wouldn't be enough men, even if they were to recall those sent off in battle. The city is too weak and these knights are too tired to be much of use. Still, I walked away.

Sibrand sealed off Acre from Richard, I remember that now. He held every ship he could in dock so that no one can get in or out without his permission. Without trades coming in, the city was dying. "Come, come, for today only, everything in my wares is half off, please, come, take a look," one merchant said, his clothes nothing but mere rags as he tried to sell anything he could get. I spotted what looked like gold on his stall. What good would gold have in a city like this? Gold was valued, yes, but as a monetary good, not as something the body could consume. Acre is starving and the greedy are finally giving what they have hoarded for so long. Riches will not be of use now and until these ships are gone from port, they will probably never be of use.

Still, the Templar is scared. He knows that there's an assassin going to kill him because he is a Templar and with these patrols, these shifts, he's trying to prevent his death as best as he could. I almost feel sorry for him.

I will probably never understand Templars or the way that they think. Do they not see what they're doing? They're killing innocent lives for the sake of a new world? How blind can these people be? Sibrand must see that there are many of his subjects dying right now, even as he walks by them without giving them a second glance. I worry for the city of Acre. What would it be like if Sibrand wasn't killed? Would he have succeeded if Altair failed?

I shuddered at the thought, not really wanting to think of the outcome that something like that could possibly happen. No, Altair will succeed and Sibrand will pay for putting these people through such abuse and neglect. I tried to follow where the blond had gone, but instead, I've lost him amongst his men. However, I had noticed that the smell of the sea was much stronger and had followed it more. The docks, there was a cut scene in the docks, I'll find my answers there.

Or so, I hoped.

My boots made little noise amongst those around the markets that separated the docks from the rest of Acre. Where there were fresh food such as fish, there would be markets trying to sell whatever they could. I wish that the fish could go to further away, to help feed those closer to the desert but I know that fish never keep long and with the stench of it, it'll just attract more than what the dead. Looking up, I had seen the gulls flying with the vultures, hearing the calls as they circled around the city, waiting for another to fall to be forgotten.

I sighed before seeing something break through the circling birds, another, moving much faster than those around it, breaking up the small order of those in waiting. An eagle, breaking the ranks of the rats with wings as it soared above them, proving itself higher than the rest.

I wish I could fly like the eagle, to know that I could be feared by others, to know that they would never bring me down, but instead, I am nothing more than a mouse looking up, dreaming of becoming the impossible. I am not Altair, I will never soar high like he can, I am merely waiting to be snatched up by another as I stayed low to the ground.

"They're drunk again."

"I'm not swimming in there to go get them."

The drunks in the small ships. They were harmful, able to push any that came near them and I remember screaming at my computer scream every time that one would push me in. I hated the docks, I never wanted to see them ever again and yet I'm so close to them now, I can't help but cringe in irony. I wondered on how soon Altair would get the information he needed and get them to the rafik.

Would it be all day? Oh geez, I hoped not. I did not want to spend an evening in Acre's stench. Once was enough and I hoped that it wouldn't happen. Listening on the guards, I learned that Sibrand was very much a coward, that much I knew, but that this fear wasn't recent, that he's had this his whole life. Fear of failing, fear of being seen as worthless, being a coward, and yet, he can't stop his nature. For that small second, I pitied the man.

If I were in his shoes, would I have been the same as he? Would I be so afraid of those that I can't control? Or am I becoming as jaded as the assassin I travel with, that I should become unfazed by what happens around me?

No, I don't believe so. I'm affected already by the massacre in Damascus and the sickness here in Acre only proves that I am easily swayed. However, I am no coward. I am not like Sibrand or the Merchant King, I am me!

In the midst of all my thinking, I had heard commotion from a wall, an older man getting abuse from the guards. Looking around, I could see the familiar white hood nearby, golden eyes watching the scene unravel. I would have gone over to have a word with the assassin but the sharp look meant that he was going to pickpocket the man, to take whatever it was that the guards had given the poor man. They hadn't gotten maybe five feet away from where the man was stationed when Altair suddenly walked away, tucking something in his robes.

He didn't even look my way, instead, he climbed up a wall, catching on the edge of the roof, pulling himself up before taking flight over the roofs. Shaking my head, I followed the man, watching as he walked to where Sibrand would probably be. The man had taken twists and turns, asking for directions a few times, making me snort as I noticed that he was breaking the stereotype. I hoped to see Sibrand one more time before Altair kills him, if anything, just to see what type of person he really was, whether it was a coward or perhaps, something more. I doubted that he was a good man, no, not good at all.

Anyone who put this city, put these people, in so much abuse and neglect is not a good person. No, not good at all.

I supposed my opinion was biased considering that I am allied with assassins but as an outsider of this time, I'm disgusted by how the city's being treated.

No, I wanted Sibrand to die.

A/N: Two more coming!


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter Forty-Nine

A/N: I'm on a roll. Like literately, it was 4 am while I was still writing this. Hotel's nice, city's a dream, and it's great. However, I'm writing this up like nuts! Hyper and excited!

A bell tolled heavily somewhere in the middle of the city, the sound ringing out dully, the smell of salt water filling my senses, human wastes tainting the smell that the ocean had, making everything smell awful. Fish smell I can handle, bird smell I can handle, but human wastes, nope, I can't stand it. It's so disgusting and gross that I just wouldn't be able to handle seeing it in front of me. I already felt ill; I didn't need to vomit to make myself feel better.

However, this man was taking one too many back alleys and I was beginning to feel like a stalker by following him around. Did he honestly not know where to go?

I take that back.

We stepped out into a wide courtyard area, a huge archway leading to the docks stood before in its impressive might. I knew where I was now, I knew where to go and I knew what would happen. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the docks, seeing that there was some commotion going on but as I continued to watch from the stairs, more people gathered around.

Sibrand was yelling loudly while the one he was yelling cowered at his feet, hands raised up in pleading while his eyes were turned away, looking at the crowd half crazed. Moving closer, I heard some words over the hysterics but it wasn't until the crowd's noise died down that I could really hear them.

"Always plotting against me, all of you! Damn you, assassins! Damn you all!" Sibrand yelled out, circling the man. "You would see my blood on your hands."

The priest raised his head up and I could see familiar features. I had seen this priest before. "You are mistaken, Master Sibrand! I would never propose violence on any many, especially not you," the priest pleaded, trying to clear the false accusation.

Sibrand raised an eyebrow, a cocky smile on his face as he turned to the one on his knees. "So you say, and yet, no one here will vouch for you?" he said, arms rose, looking to the crowd to confirm his words. "What am I to make of this?"

I studied the one on the ground, trying to put his face to a name, to someone I must have run into before. "I live a simple life, milord, as do all men of the cloth. It is not for us to call attention to ourselves." Why did his voice sound so familiar?

Sibrand stopped circling, putting a hand to his chin as if thinking. "Perhaps." Suddenly growing angry, he shoved the priest so the he fell hard on his backside. "Or perhaps they do not know you because you are not a man of god but are really an assassin!" Sibrand shrieked, his voice cracking on several words as fear and anger crept into his voice.

"Never!" cried the priest, shaking his head, pulling himself back onto his knees. My eyes went wide as I suddenly remembered. The priest who granted me sanctuary!

I tried to make my way through the crowd, to stop Sibrand, but instead, I felt a strong grip on my arm, pulling me back so that my back was pushed against a hard chest. "Let me go!" I whispered, trying to break away.

"If you go, he'll kill you too," a deep voice muttered in my ear. Turning my head, I saw Altair staring at the two men like everyone else, his golden eyes hard as his grip tightened, setting bruises along my skin.

The Templar pointed to the poor man. "You were the same robes…"

The priest picked at his garments and then looked up at the knight, trying to reason with him. "If they cover themselves as we do, it is only to instill fear and uncertainty. You must not give in!"

My heart pounded as I saw Sibrand stop and look at the priest, the craze back in his eyes. "Are you calling me a coward?" he shrieked, bending low to scream directly in the other's face. "Challenging my authority?" He then stood straight up, looking at other Templar knights that drew close. "Or are you, perhaps, hoping to turn my own knights against me?" His voice cracked many more times, his face growing red.

The poor priest shook his head, terrified by the mad man. "No, no, no, no, no, no! I don't understand why you are doing this to me! I have done nothing wrong!" he stuttered. I could see the sweat beading on his forehead, his hands wringing together.

The blond knight laughed, as if finding something funny in these hysterics. "I don't recall accusing you of any wrongdoings." I felt myself breath harder, realizing what he was going at. As Sibrand's laughter calmed, he looked at the man. "It makes your outburst rather odd." Grabbing at the priest's robes, he raised the man up, spitting in his face. "Is it the presence of guilt that compels a confession?"

"But I confess to nothing!"

Sibrand dropped the priest, his face stone again. "Defiant to the end."

Fearing for the worst, the priest grabbed the crucifix around his neck, rubbing it hard. "What do you mean?" he whispered, trying to see through mad logic.

"William and Garnier were too confident, and they paid for it with their lives." Turning to the priest, he growled. "I won't make the same mistake!" Standing tall, he took an air of power. "If you truly are a man of God, then surely the Creator will provide for you!" Sibrand said, holding out his arms, palms to the skies. "Let Him stay my hand!"

The priest shook his head. "You've gone mad…" Seeing this as his last opportunity to get help, he looked into the crowd, searching for faces. "Will none of you come and put a stop to this?" Other priests in the crowd merely stepped back, wanting to keep their own necks. Looking around more, the man sentenced to death tried again. "He is clearly poisoned by his own fear! Compelled to see enemies where none exist!"

Still, people were stepping back, save for Altair who stood his ground, putting an arm around my waist to hold me in place. "Let me go!" I whispered, trying to get to the two of them. "Please, let me go." The grip never let up. "Altair, I know him, I know he's innocent."

"Sibrand would still kill him and you if you were to go to his aid." His words cut me but they were true. I could only watch in horror as the priest's eyes turned to me, that he recognized me but all I could do was hold my fingers to my mouth, tears falling down my face.

The Templar looked around, seeing none had come to the aid of the accused and tilted his chin up. "It seems the people share my concern!" he said loudly, his hands going to his sword, unsheathing it, raising it to the skies. "What I do, I do for Acre!" he shouted loudly, swinging the blade down.

I saw nothing else, a hand covered my eyes but I already knew what had happened, memories of the game playing in my head. My voice cried out with many as I held Altair's hand against my eyes, hearing women scream as well, men crying out as if to share the man's pain. I heard the body fall to the ground, the gurgles of a dying man before his breath left him forever. "Stay diligent, men!" I heard steps and then Sibrand's voice coming in clearly, as if he was facing me. "Report any suspicious activity to the guards!" he called out to the citizens of Acre. "I doubt we've seen the last of the assassins." Chain link boots stepped close, guards going to their commander's side. "Dispose of this."

I heard something being dragged away before a splash was made. They dumped the body into the harbor, not caring that the priest needed a proper funeral, that he was innocent! "Persistent bastards! Now, get back to work!" Sibrand growled out before he left, his boots making noise against the wooden docks.

When Altair's hands finally left me, I slumped to my knees. "I knew him," I whispered, my voice shaking from my sobs. "I knew him and he saved me. Why? Why didn't you let me go to him?" I shouted, turning to Altair.

"You would have faced certain death and compromised my mission!" Altair growled out. "The priest would have died regardless if you had aided him or not. Sibrand would have killed you too, whether it be the rope or his own blade." He didn't look at me anymore; his eyes were to the docks, to the many ships in the harbor.

I could see him walking away, my heart beating hard against my chest. "Altair!" The assassin paused, his hood turning my way. My mouth gaped before I finally found my voice again. "There are many who would shove you into the waters…" I closed my eyes. "Be careful."

I don't know how long I was there but when I looked up, I could see that Altair was gone. Standing on unsteady feet, I went to were the guards had dropped the priests, seeing that only blood raised to the surface. Getting on my knees, I looked into the waters, not knowing what to do. Were I of faith, I'd pray for him, but I wasn't. Closing my eyes, I tried to imagine something akin to peace for the priest so wrongfully murdered. "I don't know if You are there, but please, he saved me so please, let him know happiness." I whispered, not knowing if my prayer, or a bad imitation of one, was heard or not.

I could only hope so.

Leaving the docks, I felt my heart drop as my stomach jumped but my hands clenched into fists as I walked back into the city, pissed off at Templars, pissed off at whatever it was that took my memory, pissed off at Altair.

Why am I here? I don't like this time, I hate everything about it! I want to go home! I wanted to scream out my frustration, my hurt, my rage, everything, all of it, just let it out. However, being in the city, in this time, I can't exactly shout out. I just wanted to run somewhere where I wouldn't be heard and just scream, at the top of my lungs.

Going to an unoccupied wall, one that was relatively clean, I leaned against it and slid down, letting my forehead touch my knees.

I just wanted to go home.

A/N: One more!


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter Fifty

Disclaimer: I don't own anything UbiSoft related.

A/N: I needed to get back into writing again and with work, writing just wasn't in the cards. Yay work... Thank you all who are still with me, I really appreciate it. I did have to rewrite this whole chapter. Not because there was a system crash or anything, but I went back and reread and then realized that it was turning into the cliché I didn't want to do so yeah, I did a whole rewrite.

The stone ground under my knees was hard but comforting to know that there was at least one solid thing around. I felt…so out of place. My anger, my rage, it was unprovoked and while I did want Sibrand to die for killing the one person outside of the creed who did help me, I couldn't place my anger on Altair. I had no reason to dislike the man, and yet, I was upset.

I counted days, realizing I was hormonal. Great. But, I have to realize sometime in my life that I cannot blame everyone on hormones, or just a bad day, that I do have to stop and think about whatever was going on from a logical point of view. This time, this era, doesn't call for immaturity or naivety. This is the third crusade, of Richard the Lionheart, of English heroes, of legend, not girlish fantasies and hormonal imbalances.

Standing, I looked around to where I was. The only landscape that I knew in Acre was the cathedral and docks, so best bet for me would to find the bureau and stay nearby. Altair still had to check in with the rafik and from there, I'd run into him and we'd be going back to Masyaf. Back to Masyaf, back to the garden girls, to the safety of the fortress, of the familiar quietness of the library. Back to where Al Mualim still had control of the Apple. Frowning, I followed the roads carefully, looking for any signs while I thought about Al Mualim.

I trusted him, still did and yet, I dislike how he had turned his back against the creed, how he turning into a hypocrite and became a traitor. He had punished Altair for that so he in turn would be punished. I knew that would happen, that would come true but, there was something in me disagreeing, something in me that sided with the teacher. I respect Al Mualim. Playing the game back home, I felt the betrayal just as much as Altair did and even though I know that he will, I am hurt by it again. I know he will reveal his true colors, that he will fight against Altair. But it still hurt.

No! I can't let this get to me. Home, I have to find my way back home. Acre held no help for me, whatever help I had was murdered by a paranoid man. Home, I have to get home. My mother, my father, my brother, my friends, to everyone I know and love. To my badly paying job, to my piece of shit car, to my haunted house, to all of that.

I felt a shudder run down my back, like someone was stepping on my grave. Turning my head, I saw a child, the same little boy from the last time I was in Acre. He didn't look like he had changed: still the gray eyes, the messy hair, everything was the same. I blinked, watching him as he stared back at me with empty eyes. With a tilt of his head, he suddenly ran off. "Hey, wait!" I cried out in English. I didn't want guards on my tail again.

Running past the sick and the dying, my lungs burned as I'd stop every so often, looking around for the boy. Where had he suddenly disappeared to? There wasn't any way I had over looked him, right? No, children are small, smaller than I was, and could easily hide in places I wouldn't think about, not anymore. I'm no longer a child but not yet a full adult, not with how my maturity was.

I don't know how I had come across it but there was a small caravan of people, all on horses, talking to the guard of Acre. "The paranoid fool, he might as well be assassinated," I heard. Stopping short, I hid behind a corner of a building, listening in. That voice, the French voice, I will never forget that voice. For as long as I live, that voice will forever be the voice of Templar. Robert de Sable.

What was he doing here in Acre? He should be with Richard going to Arsuf and yet, he was here! "My lord, what of the assassin, if he should be in the city?"

"Kill him, make sure his heart has stilled then cut off his head to be sure. He has trained him well so I do not doubt that he has been taught how to cheat death."

Looking down at myself, I realized that I was hiding for nothing. My shawl was at my waist and my clothes weren't white, so I had nothing to fear. Walking around the corner, I took a quick peek at the Master Templar, trying to still rage that beat in my heart. I didn't like the man. Conspiring against his king was treason, attacked Masyaf just to get at the damn Apple. My mind raced back to the scenes of Solomon's Temple, of Malik before he had lost his limp, to a more innocent assassin, Kadar, a gentle blue eyed boy. Yes, I should be angry that he had taken the life of Kadar Al-Sayf as well.

Robert looked around, keeping a close eye on rooftops, on anyone wearing white. "I ride to Jerusalem, Maj'd Addin's funeral has been put off until my arrival and I will not let my brother rot outside his resting place." Compassion? Or maybe he was mourning the loss of a pawn. I frowned as I passed by his party, keeping my eyes trained on the ground ahead. "If the fool dies, send a bird to Jubair in Damascus, warning him that he should take care of his actions. If he falls, I will be left, should the fool assassin not learn the truth."

Truth? Oh, right.

I heard the whinies of the horses before their hooves started on the cobblestone beneath them, the heavy snorts of their hard breath before they ran to their next destination.

A part of me wants to run to Altair, to tell him to go after Robert, but I can't. I can't!

Closing my eyes, I realized something, that there will always be a part of me that will want to change how things go, that I'll want to step in and kill a target, expose a false leader, even tell Altair his whole history, but I can't! I'd ruin everything.

A cold hand grabbed mine as I turned, seeing the little boy I've run after look up at me, a small, sad smile on his face, his gray eyes looking up at me as he nodded. I squeezed his hand tightly before letting go, watching him walk away. Every step he took, he seemed to become more…blurry? I rubbed my eyes, looking back at him, only to see that the boy had disappeared. A dark feeling in my heart told me that I wouldn't see him again.

Thinking back on it, the boy had shown me that I was merely just an outsider and that like a good viewer, I had to know every part of the story. Did Robert really worry over his Templar brother or was he only looking out for himself? I didn't know the answer and I never found out, I just merely watched from the sidelines.

Lowering my head, I accepted this fate, hoping for a quick finish to Altair's mission. I wasn't needed in this time period, not in the world and the longer I stayed, the more I feared that I would slip and tell Altair everything. I couldn't do that. Raising my head, I turned to where the horses had gone, knowing that if I followed them out, I'd find the way to leave the city and hopefully, with it, the stubborn assassin.

Walking slowly, I heard my own boots on the cobblestone beneath them, not a deep as those of a man's but not as silent as an assassin's, but it did give me some sort of tempo to bounce my thoughts off of. Jubair and Robert were the last two Templars on Altair's list, the last two he faces before the truth dawns on him. To be fair, I remembered playing and being just as shocked if not betrayed by the traitor, though it'll never be as much as Altair had felt.

Biting my lower lip as I turned a corner, ignoring the heralds who called out against the Muslims of this land, I thought about Jubair, Altair's next target and if I was ready to go back to the city. Would this time be alright? Jubair's crimes were destroying literature and holy objects, a way to purify and cleanse the city, I would suppose. I knew several people back at home who would murder the Templar if he merely dog eared the pages or bent the cover or broke the spine of a book before its time. However, this is the twelfth century and religion is still very much a big part of society, so his assassination is just. However, I never really understood just why the man would destroy the Christian Bible, the Hebrew Torah or the Islamic Quran; it never made sense to me.

No, it kind of did. They were all the same, and if you destroyed just one, you still had the risk of others finding the other texts, reading those as well. The destruction of sacred holy objects though, if he believed, would be a sin on his soul. But wait, no, Sibrand said that he saw nothing and that he didn't believe so does that mean that Jubair felt the same? And with no religion to scare you down the right path of life, then he wouldn't have felt guilt in burning the texts. Of course.

I suddenly got it.

Jubair saw nothing because of the Apple, like Sibrand and in doing so, he had hoped to pull the wool of religion away from the eyes of the mass and wake them up into realizing that there is nothing to ultimately live up to. But then that would send people into a mass chaos and the Templars were all about order so just how did…Robert.

Tamir was the sell slaves, people taken control by Garnier, transported through Talal. Those people were scared by Maj'd Addin that if they weren't righteous to the cause of the Templars, that they would be killed for their sins, and Abul Nuqoud saw to that as well with his parties, killing those that could turn against the Templars, those who also held the public's ear while William turned those he could against his king, bending them so that in time, Richard would be seen as a sinner as well and be put down like a dog. I shuddered at the memory of Abul's parties and the fright that one of England's greatest kings would have died prematurely. But that leaves these three left, Sibrand, Jubair, and Robert. I frowned, my eyebrows knitting together. Of course. Sibrand would see to it that Richard would have been put down if he didn't have any more by his side and Jubair would turn people away from their king by destroying what Richard held dear: religion and the morals behind it. But the one who would hold the Apple, the one who would do all of this, would be Robert.

That's why he was in Solomon's temple! That's why he wanted the Apple!

But things changed, an outside force made things different, by destroying everything Robert had put together, yes, but by also ensuring that he would see that both Saladin and Richard destroy each other, leaving behind those with broken morale, in which he would swoop up and use to his advantage.

I had to lean against a wall, taking deep breaths. Sure, I had heard it all before, but for me to piece in what wasn't told, it was overwhelming.

But why? Why were they doing this? Of course. Someone had to have seen it through another Apple, knowing that if they tried in the future, it would probably would not be successful considering that the increase in population over the years would mean that there would still be some who would escape their grasps. This time period would be perfect too, with a small population, with the plagues and crusades. Fear, corruption, it all ran rampant during this era as well.

But who would have seen it and how did they get a second Apple? I did hear about it from someone that there was more than one Apple but just how many and why not use that one instead of the one found in Jerusalem? Was there some plan to use all of the Apples at once? I shuddered, hoping not.

I sat on a bench near the gate of Acre, my elbows on my knees as my fingers interlaced.

Desmond.

In his twenty-first century, the Templars are back, whereas with mine, they were all died out. However, the Templars with Desmond were more cunning than they were in Altair's time, perhaps even Ezio's. But this gave me hope, that they didn't have all the Apples, that they still needed them in order to do whatever it was that they were planning on doing here in 1191.

Oh my God. World domination. My heart pounded, my shoulders shook. With an Apple in every corner of the world, the Templars would have the populace of the human race under their thumbs. But why? What have they to gain from all of this? A world full of slaves? Of mindless people? They have nothing to gain from that other than no work, that they would be sent back into the Dark Ages.

No, no, of course not, the Apple could control people! I had seen it before!

Was…Was I controlled? Is that why I have a spot in my memory? Al Mualim controlled me! I put my hand to my mouth, shaking as I figured it out. How long did he have control over me? What all had I done? Oh God, what if something terrible had happened? How can I prevent this? I have to go through the library to get to the gardens!

I was used, made someone's puppet! I felt like something inside of me had died and withered away.

As tears welled in my eyes, I heard the sounds of boots over head, making my head pop up to see that across the way, on the roof, Altair was looking down at me. Tilting his chin to the gate, he turned heel, going to where he could safely exit the city without worrying over being caught. Though I could see that there was blood mottled near the ends of his robes, that one of his sleeves had some blood on the corner, all of it evident that the Templar Sibrand was dead.

Standing, I tried to blink back tears as I wiped my nose against the sleeve of my tunic, sniffling as I walked through the gate, the guards giving me a hard time before I finally bid the city adieu. However, when I reached Glue again, giving his neck a welcoming pat before mounting, I did turn back once, just to wish the city a recovery from someone diseasing her ports.

Clicking my tongue, I joined the assassin, pulling at my shawl that was still tied around my waist, once again covering my head to fight against the sun. With a nod, we turned, leaving silently back to Masyaf, back to where I'd have to figure out a way to avoid Al Mualim during the time.

A/N: There you go, chapter fifty.


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter Fifty-One

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that Ubisoft has hold claim over.

A/N: This is going to be the last chapter to signal my hiatus. I work at a video game store and writing while working during the holidays, not exactly the easiest to do. Once the holidays pass, I should get back to my regular schedule again. Don't worry, I'll be back.

The low sun signaled that it was the start of the evening but we didn't. There was a silence between the assassin and I, not an uncomfortable one, mind you, but one that was equal on both sides. He was probably thinking of a way to figure out why these nine men were all involved, if he hadn't already, while I was thinking of ways to avoid the unavoidable.

There was no other way to get into the gardens than to go through the library, unless I was able to climb up mountains cliffs, which I can't. Sighing, I rubbed my eyes, thinking that the moon that began to glow more and more brighter the higher it rose, was making me want a cookie so much. My stomach gurgled at the thought of a cookie, but nothing more happened and the night dully went on, the sounds of the horses making me sleepy.

I closed my eyes for a second, I swear I did…

-.-.-

_I was running, I don't know what, away from someone or something, going towards a gold light, the only light showing in the darkness. Reaching my hand out, I felt the fiery heat of scorching metal in my hand, burning my skin as I turned to face my attacker, only to be stunned in silence when there was nothing. Turning back again, I screamed when confronted with a man shoving a blade into my belly._

-.-.-

A hand on my shoulder steadied me, waking me up from my nightmare as well, letting me see that the new light of day was coloring the skies the rich hues of purples and blues before fading into the oranges, pinks, and reds before the gorgeous blue that was the sky. Yawning, I stretched before rubbing my eyes, the crusty sleep dust under my fingernail before I flicked it away. My companion looked a little worse for wear but he still had his stoic expression on his face, the cowl hiding his eyes, but the blood that skirted around the ends of his robes and stained the elbow of one arm, they were still very prominent even though the blood was no longer bright red but more of a rust color.

The etchings on his hidden blade's bracer also had flecks of blood on it, inside the detailed scratches, but still reflected the new light of dawn, shining as if it was brand new. Did Altair have pride in his weapon, so much so that he cleaned it constantly so that it would shine? To be honest, it wouldn't have surprised me if this were so. Many novices receiving their hidden blade for the first time would want to take care of something so valuable to their survival, to have some amount of pride in the piece of weaponry. Did this stop the image of Altair taking great stakes to clean and sharpen his blade when given a chance? No, if anything, it only encouraged the image to show many others of the craft of killing doing the same task.

Wouldn't sharpening one's weapon be deemed mundane? I supposed not considering that Altair sharpens all of his blades when we set up for the night. Men and their toys.

I passed the thought off as I looked ahead once again to our destination. In just a few days, two more if I remember right, we'll be in Masyaf and from there, I'd have to avoid the master of the assassins.

I wondered, if Al Mualim learned how to control and wipe memory, could he see past and future? No, if that were so, he would have seen… And he hadn't from what I had seen so that was still the same. I looked over at Altair, seeing that the man hadn't moved, the hood still covering his eyes.

Altair, just what did he do after he was master of the assassins? I was clueless, perhaps I always will be. When I find my way home, I'll never know what really happened. Perhaps it's for the best… But… if I stay… If I'm forced to stay… would I know? Would I have some sort of future here?

Glue huffed under me, his steps beginning to waver. The horses needed water but Altair didn't look like he had given this a thought, he wasn't moving. Biting my lower lip, I reached my hand out to touch Altair's sleeve, but his hand shot out quickly, grabbing onto my wrist as I saw a golden eye peek out under the hood. Looking away, I heard Altair let out a breath before he released my wrist, pulling on the reins of his borrowed horse, making it stop. I followed suit, making Glue stop as well, petting his neck.

I rubbed a spot under his saddle but he did nothing. What was I expecting, that the brown horse would turn black, like Kadin? I sighed, petting his neck again, trying to get rid of my sudden sadness. As Altair dismounted, pulling out a small bowl from the saddle pack and a skin, I noticed that there was a spot that he had, just below the scabbard of his short blade. I wondered if it was from an arrow but it didn't look like it had bothered him and there wasn't a hole in his robes. Was it another stain from a man long since past now? I would have asked, have the silence not taken my voice and carried it with the dry desert winds.

Somewhere in this world, there was Richard and his men were marching to Arsuf, to Jaffa, to wherever it was they were going to now, all in the name of God while Saladin would raise his armies to try to stop the English king, to keep the holy lands as they were before any of the crusades. Would I see one of their battles? Would I meet either the king or the Shah? Would I see the king again or be gifted with a sight of Saladin? I doubted this.

Dismounting, I reached into my saddle pack, pulling out a similar bowl to that which Altair was holding and filled it with whatever water I had left in my skin, holding the bowl under the stallion's muzzle. Holding very still as he drank, I held my breath. If he finishes the bowl, it would mean that he would still be able to drink more and that would mean sacrificing more water. The horse drank noisily but it was to be expected from him. Petting his head, my hand running over the long bridge of his nose, I looked over at the assassin, noticing that he was looking at the sky. Following his eyes, I saw over head two circling birds, making loud noises as they flew over us patiently, making me frown.

Buzzards should really go find somewhere else to lurk to find their next meal, I refuse to drop dead for a scavenger to pick at my flesh from my bones. Turning my gaze to my horse, I swore that I'd never let another meet the same fate while they were around me. Of course, this made me look at Altair, a small smirk coming over my face. I can't protect people against an assassin; that would be impossible.

Petting the hollow of his cheek, I set my forehead against the large head of my steed, feeling his breath tickle my sleeve against my skin, his lips toying with my fingertips. I can't do much, outside my own time, I can do very little, so I wouldn't be able to save people. I closed my eyes, trying to forget where I was, as if trying to will myself home, in my bed, curled around my favorite pillow, dreading my next work day. Glue moved his head against mine, pushing his muzzle against my chest, pushing me away. Sighing, I pet between his eyes, looking over at Altair as he handed me the bowl, very little water left in the bowl. Of course, if the horses drink all that we provide, that means that they could still drink more.

Sighing, I looked up at the sky, seeing the circling feathered beasts. "Altair?" I heard the assassin grunt as he tightened something, sounded like leather. "The seven you've killed so far, have you figured out why they're connected to each other?"

The assassin looked my way as I peeked from the corner of my eye. He didn't look happy at all. "You won't tell me." I shook my head. "But you've known this whole time."

I nodded, my gaze returning to my horse's mouth as he greedily drank the water. "As I've said before, assassin, I know a lot more than you can imagine." He looked skeptical. "I wish I could tell you all of it, but I can't. Altair, please understand that I keep information from you and the Creed, not because I'm afraid, but because I have to."

Altair blinked, his golden eyes digging through me, past my skin and bones, to my soul, as if trying to find some sort of truth there that he would know. Looking away, unable to keep the steady gaze he had, I returned to looking at the water, noticing that Glue was done. Dumping what was left into the thirsty desert, I packed the bowl in my saddle pack, grabbing the reins as I walked him. We weren't in any hurry as far as I could tell, pigeons flew faster so the message would still be delivered to Al Mualim, but I knew Altair wouldn't want to wait. Still, I did need to walk and my horse needed some weight off his back.

We said nothing, only listening to the whistling wind as it danced over the sands, picking up some grains to play with. With every step, I could feel the ground beneath me shift, the movement making my legs hurt worse than saddle wear. Walking in sand was a work out, the familiar burning sensation crawling up my calves to my thighs, making me pant and sweat due to the movement and the heat. We continued on like this, never pausing, never stopping, never slowing down, much to the dismay of my asthma. I was sure that I had sand in my lungs but I never bothered replacing the veil of my shawl to block out the terrain, needing air so badly.

Still, every step that I took meant that I didn't have to worry about sleeping on the ground or even worrying about a snake crawling under my shawl again to seek body heat in the cool night. It also meant that I wouldn't have to sleep with a man no further than three feet away from me, that I could sleep without a person guarding me, without fear of bumping into said person and waking them up to a hidden blade in my throat. No thank you, I don't need that. It also meant that I didn't have to smell and that I could wash my hair, that I could be clean and not have to worry about stinky clothes.

I wanted to be back home, back in the twenty-first century with running hot water, with soap and shampoo, and heating and air conditioning. Don't get me wrong, I love the twelfth century, but I didn't like staying in it. Medieval sense of plumbing and in this part of the world, it was so different that what I was used to. Too many rules, too many worries and dangers, some of them that we no longer have, such as the plague, but all of them still very much a threat to me now.

Wait…

I can't go home.

My steps staggered as I came to that realization. I've been exposed to Acre in its current state. If I were to bring that back home, if I was carrying something, I could infect people.

That means that about a month before, when I thought I was trapped, that I actually was trapped. I couldn't go home, even if I wasn't carrying a disease. The potential risk that I was was much greater than my need to go home. I felt like crying right then, even hid my face under the shawl so that the assassin couldn't see my tears, should any fall. I tried to keep my breathing steady even though my nose was starting to burn due, my eyes welling up with tears.

I can never see my mother or father or brother again. I will never see my friends, to laugh with them, to play with my dogs, to never drive another car, to enjoy the great things about the twenty-first century.

I truly was trapped all because I went to Acre.

A/N: Alright guys, this is it until 2012. See you guys in the new years!


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter Fifty –Two

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that UbiSoft does.

A/N: I wanted to have this up by Christmas but work wouldn't allow me, then again on New Year's but I wasn't in my right mind. This would have been up earlier last week, but I received news of one of my grandparents coming down with lung cancer. So this is early because I will not be home to update it on its normal date. And yes, I have beat Revelations, yes I did cry, will I be using some of the information given in the game? That's up for me to decide. Until then, here's the newest chapter.

That thought stayed in my head as we made camp for the evening. I didn't understand why I had come up with such a ridiculous thought. I have had my vaccines and shots, so I shouldn't be a carrier or infected. Sucks that I have to take risks.

Lying back on the sands of the desert, looking up at the unfamiliar stars, I sighed, tucking my hands behind my head.

I wondered; if the Apple taught me Arabic, did it bring me here? What brought me to the twelfth century anyways? I don't think there's a Piece of Eden that could mess with time and space. Something like that was just…otherworldly. Then again, according to some of the nut theories that I've heard, I have high doubts that the Pieces of Eden and the mysterious "Those Who Came Before" can really do anything like that. I shook my head, never finished the second game to really figure out who they were.

Sighing, I glanced over at the assassin, watching as he warmed his fingers near the fire, the missing digit standing out moreso than usual. "Did it hurt?"

Altair golden eyes looked over at me, before turning back to the flame. "For a short while." He rubbed at what he had left, as if remembering it.

Sitting up, I crossed my legs, holding onto my ankles. "It's a commitment every assassin must make, right?" He grunted. "A choice of what you have to do for the rest of your life. Not that different from marriage I suppose."

"Marriage?" His head turned sharply, giving me a funny look. "And how do you see the similarity between marriage and being an assassin?"

I nodded to his hand. "Where I'm from, you would put a ring on that finger to show that you have a spouse. Should there be verbal fights, it's much like the trash talk you assassins have with your opponents."

"Trash talk?"

"Taunting them."

"I do not taunt." I smiled, knowing another with similar features who does. "I still fail to see the similarities."

I looked over to the fire, holding my hand out, the heat seeping through my skin, warming my hand. "Well, it's still a lifetime commitment. That you would defend your spouse with your life, much like you assassins do with the creed, with its honor. You'd die before you let anything bad happen to it. You trust it."

"The creed is not a bed warmer, nor can it produce children."

Glancing over at Altair, I felt anger that he would say that about my gender, and yet, sad that he would say such a thing after her. "Is that how you see us?"

He didn't say anymore, looking back to the flames, his hood hiding his eyes again. Sighing, I turned away, looking at the sticks inside the fire, as it was being eaten by the hungry flame like a glutton after cake. No, I knew he didn't. Rolling over, turning my back on him, I closed my eyes, trying to get some sleep. Acre's realization made me concerned and if what I thought was true, then I am in some serious need for some help.

-.-.-

Morning came, and with it, the eerie quiet that would pass between us. Clicking my tongue, I gripped the reins tightly, wondering if I should continue to ride with Altair. He'd be heading to Damascus next, then to Jerusalem, from there, to wherever Robert was. What would I be doing then? Would I be following him still or would I be in Masyaf, in the care of his master? Should I sneak away one night and fight my chances in the desert or should I merely stay behind in one of the cities?

No, I had my stupid fangirly mark on me which meant that if another assassin should spot me then I would be brought into the creed once again and dealt with the punishment of being a traitor. I am not a traitor. I am not even an assassin! I sighed, realizing that I would have to stay, that I would have to see everything through.

It pained me to know that I'd have my heart broken.

Stupid stupid me.

Damn whatever brought me here.

An eagle called out over head, making me look up. In its sharp talons was what looked like a dead snake, perhaps one that it caught while hunting. I could imagine it coming out of no-where, catching and killing the snake instantly before flying away. How very similar this bird of prey was to the assassin riding with me. It must be in search of a perch nearby to eat its kill, to taste the savory victory of knowing that it was a mighty hunter, bested by nothing else in the skies.

"Wish I could fly."

Altair's hood turned my way. "And be like Icarus?" Holy shit, he knew literature.

I frowned. "I doubt that I would ever fashion wings that large to carry me over the skies. I'm also afraid of heights so I'm pretty sure that I'd only glide over short distances while staying as low as I could to the ground."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Then why wish it?"

"Doesn't everyone?" Sighing, I shook my head. "No, of course not. You seem as if you're flying when you're bounding across the rooftops and jumping from unbelievably high places with nothing to land on save for a hay pile." He grinned, hiding his eye beneath his hood. Cocky assassin prick. "Aren't you afraid of falling?"

He didn't say anything for a while before letting out a breath. "Once."

"Have you fallen before?"

"Once. I broke my arm."

I blinked incredulously at him. Him, the assassin who knew no fear, who was so perfect at almost anything he did, well, game wise that is. "How did that happen?"

He didn't say anything which made me think that he was either showing off or was trying to prove himself. Who would he be showing off to though? This couldn't have happened when he was an adult or a teenager, maybe a kid. Maybe it was to prove his worth to the other novices? To Al Mualim?

"Boys will be boys, I suppose." Turning my head away, I let out a small smile. "Should you have sons, I fear they would be just like you."

His horse turned as he cocked his head. "Seeing my future again, soothsayer?" My smile grew as I said nothing. "Tell me, is it mine you only see, or the whole future?"

I looked up to see his golden eyes, stopping Glue to sigh. "I know so much about you, assassin, so much that you will do before you even think of it. I know what will happen soon, the outcome of battles between you and your enemies and many things that you will do in your lifetime." He blinked once, but his face remained stoic. "I do know the future, in a way, but I cannot tell you any of it."

"You are afraid."

"There are a small handful of people I think of when I keep information from you." He gave me a curious look but I wouldn't say anymore. I couldn't. I had to think of his soon to be family, of his descendants, of those that I have known almost as well as I've grown to know him. I think of them, of the ones who would be affected by anything he will do.

We didn't say much else as we continued on our way, walking through the night as the tips of the mountains of Masyaf came into view. My heart pounded against my ribcage as I took a breath slowly.

The master of assassins, the old man in the mountain, would ask Altair of his mission, I knew that much, but he'd also expect for me to be as I was when I had left, different.

Still, I took a deep breath and readied myself for anything.

It was morning when we reached the cavern leading to the village. The river could be heard and the smells of the village told me that the people inside were moving about. Petting Glue as I released him into the hold of the assassin horse master, petting Anisa as I walked by. I was worried about her but she seemed to be in better spirits and even trotted over to nip at Altair's robes, tugging on the fabric gently.

She seemed to be...bigger a little bit around the tummy. "Is she pregnant?" I asked the horse master.

The assassin was an older man with silver in his hair, giving him the silver fox look. "She'll have a foal in the spring, I should think." He winked at me then, his dark eyes bright and mischievous. "It is odd considering that they would be bred here in Masyaf when instead, she was stubborn and did it in the dead of night, not but a month or two ago."

Kadin...she was carrying Kadin's foal. My thoughts raced back to the dark horse with such soft fur and strong legs. Looking at Altair, I saw him rubbing her large face, his hand scratching at her chin as she lipped at his palm, looking for anything sweet to have. As I smiled, I couldn't help but notice that she was the only thing he was gentle with.

That would change soon, I knew that much.

Walking ahead of the assassin, I looked around the village, not seeing too much difference except that the produced had changed just a little bit. Children were still playing, still moving with speeds that would soon be noticed by the other assassins. How many children were pulled away from their family and friends so that they could be trained to fight, to kill, to die for something that they had no control over?

I tried to push past that feeling as I noticed some novices running around the rooftops, holding some sort of prize of either stolen fruit or a red piece of fabric. Was it part of their training to do this though? I had never noticed that Altair really was a thief, that he was trained to steal out of people's bags and pockets without being noticed. Who had taught him to be a thief? Was it Al Mualim? Another assassin? Was it something he had picked up from watching others?

I have seen the boys in their white hoods jumping from place to place, their speeds faster than any of which I had seen. I had never really gotten in parkour back at home, never really been introduced to it but this was fascinating to watch them run across buildings and to make smooth jumps and brave leaps across wide gaps between buildings.

I would have continued to watch them, if I wasn't suddenly bumped into by a very spiteful person. "Can you not be a bother to everyone, girl?" I heard. Turning my head, I frowned at Abbas but lowered my eyes. I couldn't pick a fight with him. It wasn't my place to stand up to someone that could kill me. "Stay out of my way," he snarled, walking past Altair, bumping shoulders with him as well but Altair didn't look back, instead, his head rose higher as his pace continued, leaving Abbas to stand there, a furious look across his face.

I said nothing as I followed Altair, wondering if it would be worth staying for a day or two of recuperation. Would it be worth the risk of being controlled again by Al Mualim? I really didn't have a choice in the matter. If I run, I'm a traitor, but if I stay, I will live in fear.

These thought plagued with my mind until I noticed that all too quickly, we had arrived at the library. I held my breath as we passed under the stone arch that lead into the courtyard of the training facility, seeing that once again, Ra'uf and his students were missing. In fact, nearly all the assassins were missing.

Why? What would make them leave their post? I looked at the large window, seeing Al Mualim looking out, and I could barely make out a smile beneath that full beard of his.

My stomach twisted but I stayed quiet, walking much closer to the assassin as we entered the cool library. It was a welcomed relief from under the hot sun that I wanted to pull away my shawl but instead, I was frozen with worry. I didn't fear the assassins around me, no, I feared the man behind them all.

The doors of the gardens were open and I could hear the soft giggles of the water that ran through the garden but not of the girls. Something was terribly wrong, I could feel it in my gut.

"Welcome home, child," came the deep voice. Turning my head, I saw Al Mualim watching Altair, as if he was proud of him. He didn't address me, for that which I was grateful, but as we walked to be in front of Al Mualim's desk, I stayed behind, standing near the bookcase, watching the men interact. "What news?"

Altair lowered his head in a bow before staring at his master in the eye. "Another of the named has been put to rest," he said calmly. I blinked. This was where the wise man read in the codex was found. This was the man I knew Altair would become.

Al Mualim nodded and rose to full height. "Then it would appear that your work is nearly complete and your status restored." I could see a smile grace his lips, a proud man indeed.

"A question, master, if I may," Altair inquired, cocking his head forward.

"Ask and I will answer," Al Mualim granted, nodded as he turned to his left, as if ready to pace.

"Why these men, Jubair and Sibrand?" Altair asked, holding his hands up as if holding the names of the nine.

The old man gave a sly smile, as if he was playing with fire. I inched away from him, being reminded of a snake. "Ah, but you see," he started. "They pave the way for change." His hand made a sweeping motion, as if he was moving something aside, something invisible. "Ensure threats both old and new are not given cause to intervene."

Altair blinked, looking at the ground, his eyebrows furrowing. He was becoming wise, I could see it. "To weaken them is to weaken our enemy," he said softly, as if seeing pieces of a puzzle being fit together. "I suppose that makes sense."

I wanted to smile, knowing that he would see through these half truths soon. It was true, what Al Mualim was saying, that the Templars were weakening both Richard and Saladin's armies so that they wouldn't see anything unexpected coming. But at the same time, I knew that this was also a plan for Al Mualim, I just couldn't say anything, not yet.

"For these men to continue their work, our work would quickly be undone." Again, this was a half truth. If there wasn't any fighting, there wouldn't be need for assassins, no need for anyone to die over something stupid and petty.

Altair could see this, I knew that, for he looked up, his golden eyes narrowing to look at his master. "How is that? We've caused them much grief," he stated. Soon, Altair, this will be clear soon, I swear it.

"We strike at the arms, yes, but this is a hydra that you face and it is quick to replace that which is severed." I frowned.

Altair curled a fist. "Then we should chop off its head and be done with it," he said angrily.

A knowing smile touched Al Mualim's face, as if he was pleased with the way things were going. "Soon, soon," he promised. "We are close. Only one more man stands between us and our ultimate goal." Al Mualim spoke of Jubair in Damascus.

"I'll return to my work," Altair said, his head up as he stood ready. "The sooner this last man dies, the sooner I face our true enemy." No, Altair, how wrong you are.

Not ready to dismiss his student, the master of assassins raised his hand. "Before you go, I have a question for you."

Altair's face softened. I blinked in wonder. I had never seen him without some fire in his eyes and now he was calm. This was the man who would do great things. This was the Altair the world knew. "Of course."

"What is the truth?" Al Mualim asked, pacing in front of Altair now.

Without hesitation, Altair answered. "We place faith in ourselves, we see the world the way it really is and hope that all mankind might see the same." The Eagle of Masyaf's eyes followed his master's movements.

"What is the world then?" Al Mualim asked, barely letting Altair finish.

"An illusion; one that we can either submit to, like most do, or transcend."

"What is it to transcend?" He was now in front of the dangerous assassin. For a moment, I forgot the truth, I forgot where I came from and what I knew.

"To recognize that nothing is true and everything is permitted." The motto of the creed, the saying that beats within every heart of every assassin in the world, that which binds them to the creed for life. As it beat in their hearts, it beat in mine. "That laws arise not from divinity, but from reason." Altair paused, looking away before looking back at his master. "I understand now that our creed does not command us to be free, it commands us to be wise."

No. No assassin is free. They are bound to the creed, this lifestyle. If one were to leave, they would still know everything that they know, they still know the truth, that there are still dangers out in the world, they would still want to fight these dangers, to save who and what they can before succumbing to death and its embrace.

"Do you see now why the Templars are a threat?" asked Al Mualim.

Altair nodded once. "Whereas we would dispel the illusion, they would use it to rule." His voice grew darker, as if it knew of the ominous fate the Templars had in store for the world.

The old man nodded. "Yes, to reshape the world in an image more pleasing to them," he said gently, his hands raising as if her held crafting tools. "That is why I sent you to steal their treasure, that is why I keep it locked away," he said, his head turning to his desk. "And that is why you kill them," he stated, turning back to look at his dangerous student, a darkness entering his voice. So long as one survives, so too is their desire to create a new world order."

Lowering his hands, he was once again the teacher. "Take your equipment, seek out this last man. With his death, Robert de Sable will at last be vulnerable." He turned to walk back to his desk, watching it carefully. Was the Apple talking to him, showing him images?

I didn't ask, I couldn't, I looked to Altair instead as he bowed his head, closing his eyes. "It will be done."

Almost as if he forgot something, the master of assassins turn to Altair, raising his hand. "Safety and peace upon you, Altair." The assassin said nothing for nothing needed to be said and we both watched as Al Mualim went to the giant window to over look the fortress and village that was Masyaf, his hand folded behind his back.

On the desk I could see the short blade, knowing that this was one of Altair's personal ones. As he picked it up, he swung it around with grace before tucking it under his arm, sheathing it and stretched, getting use to having the weight on his back.

Our eyes met for a second before looking over at Al Mualim. The master didn't have anything to say to me, one which I was very grateful for.

The assassin crossed the balcony again, motioning me to follow. I looked back at Al Mualim before nodding, listening to the scholars whisper softly amongst themselves as they were hunched over books. "You were both wrong," I whispered, once we left the library. "You were wrong about the hydra. They grow their heads back, not their arms. To kill them, you stab them in the heart," I said, putting a fist to my own. "Here, so that they would never rise back up."

Altair smirked, nodded. "Then that's where we will hit them next." He then looked over at the window, to see his master once more before return to his walk to the village. "What of Jubair?"

I sighed. Of course. "Jubair al-Hakim is a scholar. Whatever his evil is, you will put an end to it, I have no doubt about that." I paused in my thinking however. "How did you know his name was Jubair? I doubt that even Al Mualim would be informed of what he's doing in Damascus."

It took Altair a second, his eyebrows furrowing together. "Al Mualim told me, when I returned from the sleep of the dead," he said slowly, his hand touching his abdomen, to the scar I knew would be there, the mark of a traitor in Al Mualim's eyes.

It was then that I saw it and felt satisfied that I am helping. Altair was beginning to doubt his master even more now.

A/N: It was rushed, I'm aware, I was packing and cleaning as I was typing, trying to finish this before it was time to go. Next week, everything will be back on schedule.


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter Fifty-Three

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to UbiSoft.

A/N: I'm sorry for the unexpected hiatus, life has gotten so lively these past few months, such as more hours at work, getting ready to go to DragonCon this August, love of my life staying for a week and a half (that was a great relief), and now, I am reminded that I haven't updated in nearly half a year and I apologize. There is one good thing about this fic, other than it's my baby and I love it dearly, I have been recognized at my work as its writer by a fan. Next day, I had to sign a printed copy of my fic. OMG! That made me feel so good about myself and after a long talk with her (once again, I appreciate your kind words and I'm honored that you read this) I needed to get back to work, especially since I have been writing the Legendary Six (which is still having massive research gone into it), but I've also been wanting to write more of Ezio so need to get this done before the end of this year, write some for Ezio and my massive fic, hopefully all before AC3 comes out. Hopefully being a big word. Grateful though because I only have a few shift this week so WRITING ALL THE TIME! Enjoy and I apologize once again.

Outside in the fields, I could see the villagers working diligently, harvesting what foods they could, all of the talking amicably. I sat on a rock overlooking the fields, a small boy standing next to me as he oversaw everything, making sure that the seeds that were being sown now weren't taken by the birds. I could tell that the boy used to do this for other labors as well. After all, why would he be doing this so patiently. Perhaps his family were farmers before they came to Masyaf?

Looking to my left, I could see other boys, some older, maybe fourteen to fifteen, with some younger, perhaps as young as six. All of them whispering as they pulled back high brushes and grasses. Hunting for something perhaps? I couldn't tell until the smallest yelled, his chubby hand pointing in the brush as he knelt. One of the older kids slapped his hand and moved him away as the tallest slowly moved backwards, his arm high in the air.

In his hand was a snake.

Did Altair do this when he was a child? Did Malik and Kadar join him? Or were they the ones who stayed close to the fortress itself, watching older assassins move about with fluid grace, mimicking them in their clumsy practices? Either way, I was on edge. I wasn't afraid of snakes, not really. They never bothered me. But I know that they are dangerous and that they will bite if provoked or scared.

I thought back to the snake I had encountered with Altair, how I froze with fear. It was ready to strike, ready to bite and that's why I froze, so it wouldn't but these boys, they aren't afraid, they are holding the snake by the tail, carrying it over onto a patch of dirt without grasses. Already I could see something that looked like a wooden bowl in the middle. The one with the snake set it down quickly while another covered it with the bowl. The younger ones jumped as they circled the bowl. As they lowered themselves to sit on their ankles, I could see that they were a good distance away from the bowl, still within arm's distance and within striking range, but they seemed fearless.

They all started to shout at the same time, banging on top of the bowl before it was pulled away quickly. The snake quickly stood up, its hood spread in worship as it watched, swaying back and forth, figuring out what to do, where the nearest exit was, and if need be, who to strike should something go amiss. Already, I could see the boys dashing their hands out, testing their speeds against a snake. I wanted to run, to tell them to stop, but I knew that I shouldn't. If I were to distract them, it could mean that one of them would get hurt.

Did they fear nothing? Was this what all boys did? Or was it just a trait one gets from being around an assassin?

I thought about it then. Yes, I too am affected. I have grown used to sleeping outside of a bed, I have grown used to a short amount of food on hand, grown used to blood, the dead, of heights. I am affected by this now. Pulling up my sleeve, I looked down at my skin, noticing that it is already so much darker than that which I remembered. I was so pale compared to everyone and now I'm beginning to look like them. I shuddered before jumping from my spot on the rock.

How I have forgotten what it was like to be pale, to be an outsider and though I'm not part of them, I am, in a sense, accepted. Is it because Al Mualim has commanded it to be so or is it because I have been around them for so long, coming and going with Altair, that it is normal.

But nothing here is normal, not in my term at least. I do not cook my foods like they do, I do not sew, do not wash my clothes like them. I am an outsider, I am not one of them, not a part of them. Sighing, I put my hand to the red sash around my waist. No, I'm not them, but I do hold secrets very well.

Or so I hope.

From the villages, I could smell the wonderful foods already being made. There is a joyous celebration going on at the moment, a birth of a new son for a family. It's their second, the first already ten and receiving his training to be an assassin. Would the second also be trained as well? Would they be fated like Malik and Kadar? In the shadows of my heart, I hoped not. I didn't like knowing that children were being raised as killers but in this time of history, in this era, this was their way of life. I was an outsider, I had to remember that. I was not of their land, of their origins, I was merely an outcast, an observer.

Was that why I was here? Why I was pulled from my home, or rather my car? Was that my role in this life? To merely observe and give in my input?

No. I have changed something. I have changed a lot of things. Malik and Altair have a less troubled relationship all because I told Altair to act more respectful, I gave Altair doubt about Al Mualim, I have made sure that the Merchant King died by showing Altair the path. I am here not only to observe, but to change a little bit of history.

Hearing a sigh, I turned my head, seeing the one person who has been absent in so long. The older woman, the one who gave me my sash. "You." I could see her eyes weren't as bright as they once were, that the wrinkles on her face were deeper than I had last seen her, but the smile remained. A gentle, calm smile. "Why are you here?"

She didn't answer. Of course not. "Why can't the others see you? Are you just a figment part of my imagination? Do you only live within the delves of my mind and come out to mess with me like 16?" She gave me a funny look before shaking her head. "Then what do you want?"

Raising her hand, a finger pointed, back to the fortress, to where the library was, where Al Mualim was probably going over the secrets of the apple. "Are you from it?"

No answer, like usual. "Who or what are you?" Turning her gaze at me, she sighed again. What was that supposed to mean? Turning my head back to the fortress, I tried to piece together why she would want the apple but when I looked back, she was gone.

"Alright, getting really sick and tired of this ghost act." It gave me no answers as to why I was here, why I was pulled from my own time or how to get back. Instead, it just kept telling me to be pulled closer to the apple.

I could never understand that woman. I couldn't get close to the apple without setting of Al Mualim or for that matter... I have seen what it does to weak minded men. I have seen holding the apple, dying as it possessed them, as it burned its cryptic glyphs in the palm of their hands. It wasn't for the weak minded at all.

Wait! I haven't seen men die by it! Where did these memories come from? I shuddered before heading back to Masyaf's great fortress, to search for something that could possibly give me the answers.

-.-.-

My search was in vain as I peeled by scrolls upon scrolls of Arabic writings, of Latin I couldn't translate much less pronounce. Nothing was in English or French, I couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. My only redemption were a few words I recognized in Latin, having knowledge of some thanks to my science classes in school, as feeble and weak as they were. But nothing helped, nothing told me of the Pieces of Eden. I sighed as I rolled up another delicate piece of parchment. I could go snooping in Al Mualim's personal records but I highly doubted that he would have something for me to read, much less understand. After all, I am not a native of these lands, I didn't know the language. The apple taught me...

This caught me off guard. Why did it only teach me how to speak Arabic? Why not read and write it as well. I knew how to read and write, I was a highly educated women, very intelligent in these times, so why not teach me how to read? It wasn't fair. But as I gave it more thought, I nodded. Of course it didn't. The apple didn't have control of its actions, it was a tool, under the command of Al Mualim. When he wielded it, showing me the power of the orb, he didn't know that I knew as much if not more than the dai who walked in the village below or that I could code just as well as the scribes inside the library, which I was hiding from.

No, no one knew. I had to keep this knowledge a secret. Hopefully.

Setting the last of the tomes to the side, I sighed before laying my head on my arms, closing my eyes. Why was I having memories of men being tortured by this orb, one that they held fearlessly before that bravery turned into fear as their souls were shredded as easily as a wet piece of paper, that their minds would be obliterated into nothingness? It didn't make sense to me.

Was this a result of the apple's power being used on me, that some of that knowledge would leak in my head? I shuddered, wanting nothing more than to get such awful thoughts out of my head.

A hand set itself on my shoulder, making me jump and gasping as my eyes flew open, looking behind me. "I apologize for scaring you," a kind voice said as a scarf was removed from his face. "I was looking for you."

"You did more than scare me, Ra'uf." I wanted to tell him that I shat myself but the phrase would go over his head and he would probably back away from me with disgust. I miss my time and lingo. "Why were you looking for me? I didn't know I was wanted."

Ra'uf smiled, the kindness in his eyes made me feel safe. "You are always wanted, never question that." I snorted. I wasn't as wanted at home. Granted, family and friends loved me, yes, but there was never time to hang around them and whatever comfort I had with them was fraying. "Come, the boys have gone to another tutor and the sun is setting. Perhaps you would like to see the view?"

I blinked, realizing that Ra'uf was flirting with me. "Oh..." I couldn't! I don't know anything about Ra'uf and if I have a relationship with him, who is to say that I'm denying a person their life in the future? "I can't. I wish I could but I cannot. I have to get to the gardens before the girls miss me. I dine with them," I said quickly.

I did like Ra'uf, but I couldn't love him. I knew nothing of him, not like I knew Altair or Malik, and I didn't want to hurt him, but I couldn't. He blinked before nodding and smiling, seemingly unhurt. "I understand. Please forgive me forwardness, I had not known that you were to be occupied shortly." Oh, he was sweet. "Please, do not let me keep you." He turned heel and walked away, his steps unhurried and stance as straight as any other assassin's. I couldn't tell if I had hurt him or not, assassins were so hard to read unless they put up an emotion.

I wanted to follow him, to see the sunset with him, even if it were just as friends, I couldn't. I was an outsider of this time and had to stay as far as I could away from the male species in terms of relationships. It hurt, it really did but I had to.

However, as I walked to the gardens, my arm was grabbed and once again I was facing an assassin, gold eyes regarding me curiously, as if seeking answers to a question he was unwilling to ask. We said nothing as he let me go but when his eyes flashed to the stairs leading up to where the master of the assassins were, I knew he had questions that I would sift through. Nodding, I watched him look at the gardens, his eyes on the pregnant form of my only friend. Our eyes met before he closed his eyes, his arms crossed, a sign that he would wait for me.

Mysha looked at me, her green eyes watering with unshed tears. Oh, sweet Mysha, dear little sister. I held her close, petting her head. "I'll be back," I promised, smiling down at her before putting my hand on her belly. "I'll be back before you come out so stay until I get back." Mysha laughed, breaking her sadness. "Now go rest, you shouldn't be on your feet so much, they're going to swell on their own."

As the young garden girl nodded, she looked over at Altair. "Take care of her, assassin, or I will hunt you down and cut of what you hold dear." I laughed as he frowned. Oh yes, this was a like a little kitten wanting to be a fierce strong lion. I ruffled her hair, messing it up out of its neatly tight plait which earned me a few glares but I shrugged it off, following the eagle of Masyaf.

I had a mission of my own to continue.

I could hear mothers chiding their children to return inside their homes for the night, some assassins stopping to sit on piles of rugs and cushions that sat on roofs or perhaps run back to the fortress, back to the library, or to where they slept. Only a few remained, keeping watch as they stood proudly, their arms crossed over their chests, hands on their swords or fiddling with a blade. I remembered seeing one stabbing at the wood of a table around his fingers. A trick I had seen done before in a movie and one that my uncle performed with my own.

The sounds of life were slowly tucking into their beds, ready to return to the dream world, and to rest while their bodies prepared for another day of labor ahead of them. Already I could smell the meals of dinners being made, some just having a simple meal of boiled meat while one caught my scent, of roasted lamb. Oh it made me hungry.

Without looking for Ra'uf, ignoring all but the assassin who led me out of Masyaf, I waited patiently for questions that I knew would come once Altair was sure of privacy. The doubts I planted in his head were starting to affect him, I could tell. I just wish that he wouldn't be too upset when I could only give him a few answers, if any at all.

Passing by the large gate that separated the village from the desert, I looked to the horse stables, seeing that Anisa was watching Altair with her large eyes, almost longingly reaching of for him. Loyalty was something was that not in short amount here in Masyaf but it was rare for Altair. I couldn't image anyone being loyal to him while he was cocky. No, it would have been after he was reborn into the creed.

Mounting the saddle that was already on Glue's back, I gripped at the reins, following Altair as he mounted a gray horse, rearing up before shooting off into the quickly approaching darkness. We never leave at night, which made me question his intentions.

When the fortress was nothing more than more than a shouting distance away, Altair slowed as his head turned my way. "How do you know of my next target before I do?"

I sighed, knowing this was coming. "Al Mualim gave you the nine to kill, didn't he? You should have already known. After all, you know that if he knew what this Templar was doing before he was already performing his task..." I left it to hang in the air, let Altair know just what was going on.

"Has he been keeping anything else from me?"

"Yes." That wasn't a secret, though I think that Altair just needed to know, a confirmation. "What are you thinking, assassin?"

The golden gaze returned my way. "A soothsayer like you should know what it is that I plan before setting it in action." I sighed again, not wanting to bring up the mindless argument. "Yet the question is why."

"Why what? If you want answers, Altair, you will need to be more specific than that," I said, closing my eyes, feeling the chill from the night starting to creep in my muscles. Moving to be closer to him, I watched the white hood. "I can't read minds."

That made a very rare smile appear on Altair's lips. Humor wasn't lost on him but the mood had to be right and this was perhaps the only time I will ever see him smile, especially at something I've said or done.

The white hood tilted. "No." The light mood quickly snuffed out like a candle. "Why is he keeping things from me?"

I was quick to answer. "Why do I keep things from you?"

"So you don't mess something up, as you proclaim that you will, yet your very presence means that you are tampering with what it is you wish to stay pristine." Alright, I hadn't thought of that. "Is his reason the same?"

I lowered my head, feeling the scarf around my scalp slip before tugged it off completely. "No. He keeps things from you like a father would keep things from his son; like a teacher keeps secrets of the universe from their students; so that you can figure things out on your own." The hood lowered and I was filled with sympathy. Touching his arm, I could feel the muscle underneath. "You are a smart man, Altair, you just need to figure out these riddles on your own. Do not let your pride succumb to asking for help when these answers are for you only."

"You have changed." His eyes turned to me once again as my hand returned to holding onto the leather reins. "Your way of speaking, the way you hold yourself. I have noticed that, even as Ra'uf went to you." I blushed, hoping that it was dark enough to hide the blood that rushed to my face.

Have I? Turning away, I had to think about this. It was true, I wasn't as loud as I once was, I wasn't snapping at him anymore. "I haven't changed that much," I said quietly. "And last I checked, you, Altair, have changed more than I." Oh his pride swelled from that, I could tell as a smirk teased at the edges of his scarred lips. "Remember this, assassin: you are made to adapt and adapting you are. Learn to use that to your advantage." Chewing on my lower lip, I closed my eyes. "Your next target will be tricky. You need to be careful when hunting him down. A man can be in more than one place at once."

Altair said nothing, I knew he wouldn't. He would never say it but I knew he was thankful for a piece of information about his next target. However, I could tell that he was mentally preparing himself to face this next target. After all, he only had this one left before Robert.

I started as I remembered.

How was I going to explain the deception that Robert had planned?

A/N: Alright, there you go. Ladies and gents, I'm back!


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter Fifty-Four

**A/N: So, about a few months back, I received a review for Chapter two from an anon reviewer. This reviewer has brought something in the light. Part of my fic has been stolen. I haven't said anything to this thief because I wanted to see what else was taken of mine, but I am irked and upset by it nonetheless. I just find it really gross that someone has stolen part of my work. I bust my booty off for this fic!**

The glass and the sands of the desert burned my eyes as sand kicked up again in the bright morning. I cursed Altair for keeping me up all night, Every time I would try and sleep, his hand would steady me, as if I was about to fall off Glue's back. I yawned for the umpteenth time that morning, wishing that we could stop somewhere so that I could sleep but I couldn't. I would be risking the mission.

Rubbing my eyes, I looked over at Altair's back. If he didn't have the short blade, I wondered if I could sleep against him. I remembered the scent of his back and I blushed, quickly fixing my scarf back around my head as if I was passing it off as a sun burn. My nose, however, was turning red, telling me that I was getting a burn from the sun. It wouldn't be my first burn, but it was an embarrassing one nonetheless. I wish there was aloe on hand or some sort of healing salve so that I could fix this but alas, no such luck. I didn't know what Altair had in his saddlebags, I never looked inside but I wished that he had some on him.

Tapping my nose, I could feel the skin dying. Soon it will crack and peel and then, of course, my nose will be red or an even darker shade that it once was. I sighed as I held onto the reins again, looking around the desert. There wasn't anything interesting, no caravans, no wayward rider, not even a bad of rogues coming after us.

A skin tapped my hand, startling me. "Drink. You're flushed."

Snorting, I took the skin, drinking some of the precious liquid inside. "Thinking of how you will kill Jubair?" He didn't say anything, but I knew that he was thinking of what my clue was. I wanted to tell him what would transpire during his mission, to tell him that Jubair would have many different scribes who were similarly dressed, each one doing what he was told. "Then tell me this, what will you do when you face Robert in Jerusalem?"

"He will be in Jerusalem?" Me and my big mouth.

Passing it off as common knowledge, I waved my hand, as if to clear the air. "Of course, why not attend the funeral of his fallen brother. Which reminds me, Islamic funeral customs are so much different than what I'm used to." The confusion on his face told me he had no idea what I was talking about, like usual. "When a person dies, it is customary to bury them within three days."

"And this brings you peace?"

"Actually, I wouldn't know. I have never known anyone who has passed. The only family member I had to die was when I was a young child. I barely remember her as is." I shrugged, looking back at him. "I do not have a violent life like you, assassin, my family lives in relatively peace."

"There is no such thing as peace. The world can't fully be in peace."

"True, if peace were to take over the world, we would ultimately destroy ourselves in some horrid way. I meant that where I am, we are almost happy. A war has broken out and though it has affected us, we are still safe."

Altair's hood turned my way. "This war between Richard and Saladin has affected you as well."

"Not the Third Crusade, no, but a war just as terrible." I couldn't tell him. "Enough about my family, I didn't follow you to discuss them." It only made the needle in my heart hurt even more. "What will you do, once your mission is complete, your honor and rank restored?"

He didn't answer.

Of course not. "You know it was Robert who did that to Malik, who ordered his men to cut down Kadar, merely a boy. Would you just let him walk away unpunished?"

"The creed doesn't allow us to take revenge. It clouds our judgments."

"Then why are you so adamant in hunting him down like a rabid dog? Is it because it was he who overpowered you? Threw you to where you couldn't be of use to Malik or his brother?" His hood turned once again. "You know that I know what happened." His jaw clenched, as did the grip on the reins.

I chose to say nothing else. I didn't want Altair to be upset at me more than he already was. I had overstepped my boundaries and was in a danger zone. I hoped that I could get back to where he wasn't upset at me but the days between here and Damascus were long. Silence couldn't stay, not forever. But then again, who was I kidding? Altair could take a vow of silence if it meant his job wouldn't be as hectic with begging, pleading Templars to kill. I have been in silence with this man before so I would assume that I would once again have to trot in silence again.

The sounds of horses drew my attention away as I saw a small caravan of people not too far away, standing on a large dune, looking down at the assassin and I. "Who are they?"

The assassin's hood turned to the group of travelers. "They are either nomads or pilgrims traveling to or from Mecca."

It wasn't uncommon to see pilgrims, I recalled seeing a few before but this was different. The men were wearing white hats and they walked barefoot. "Is it a requirement for them to go to Mecca?"

"Once in their lifetime. Speak to Ra'uf about this, I care little what they do."

I bit my lower lip remembering the teacher. "You were there. Why did he offer that?"

Altair's horse stopped as it turned to face me. "Are you that vain to think that everyone falls for your charms? Ra'uf is promised to another." It stung but I nodded. "You, soothsayer, are not as important to everyone as you may believe yourself to be."

"Excuse me? I don't think like that!"

"No? You were men's clothes and don't want anyone to look at you, you befriend every male you see yet distance yourself when the prospect of a relationship stands. You are either a fool or you believe yourself to be on everyone's minds at once," he said, his voice and eyes hard.

Had he said this to me when we first began to talk, I would have cried out of how much it hurt but now, I began to realize that he was right. My attire was due to how comfortable in the type of clothes back home and the amount I friends I had made me a bit spoiled. He was right.

Looking away, I said nothing else for the ride. Even as the sun set and rose three more times, I said nothing to the assassin. What was there to say? He had taken the truth, one I didn't want to see, and forced my eyes open, showing me that what I was thinking was wrong in this period of time. I should have stayed in the gardens this time. I had no business in returning to Damascus. The rafik there had my word that I would return but I had no business when it came to the mission itself.

On the evening of the last day of our travels, my legs were beginning to hurt and I could feel my time of the month about to hit. I hoped and prayed that I would find a woman in Damascus who would help me out, otherwise I would have to ride sidesaddle the whole trip back to Masyaf.

Upon looking at the city, I could see that it looked even worse than when it did last time. There were a few men digging to the side, away from the small marketplace in front of the great city. My heart went out to those who had died already by such a horrid Templar.

Dismounting from Glue, I pet his head, frowning as we walked the rest of the way to the city. I found it disgusting that such a thing happened and now the guards are acting as if they want to cover it up. Shaking my head, I sighed. Do Templars have nothing better to do? Looking at Altair, I could see his eyes were hard and cold as he saw the bodies piled to the side, tossed there as if they were nothing more than garbage. "You can stop this, you know. All you have to do is Jubair and the rest will fall into place."

"But who will be the one setting them there?" He had a point. Al Mualim's reach was very far. "There are fires, is the city burning?" he asked, looking up to see smoke riding high above the city.

I nodded. "Of sorts, yes. I can't tell you more, assassin, you have to figure that out by yourself. Just remember what I said about Jubair."

"Many places at once, I remember." Nothing more was said as the horses were tied to a post with others. The guards weren't on duty by the gates which made me wonder what was going on exactly. I wish I didn't see it then.

A/N: Alright, so, I have been getting a PM about the "purging of fanfiction" and honestly, it's a load of crap. Freedom of speech, hello. Try and shut someone up on the internet, I DARE YOU. It's not possible so you know what, this purging, it won't happen. Stop PMing me about it, it's wasting my time and email space.


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter Fifty-Five

A/N: I know, two weekends came and went and no update. Sorry, sorry. It's coming now, no worries.

I wish I didn't see it. I wish that there was a way I could erase it, but instead, I had to witness this destruction. It wasn't the type of fires I knew, it was much worse. There were many homes on fire, and men were tossing parchments in the homes, adding to the fire and the flames.

I could hear the screams of those trapped inside, of the burned victims as they lay in the street, their charred flesh black and red. I gagged as one man rose a hand to reach for his wife, her screams in horror had frightened the baby in her arms as a large portion of the man's skin slid straight off and onto the ground beneath him. The madness of the fires was something I didn't remember. No, it should have only been piles of books and scrolls on fire, not homes, not people.

"What madness has filled this man?" Altair grit out as his fist clenched with rage. I followed him quickly as we traveled through the throng of people, weaving in and out of crowds and those helping the victims. With a hand on my stomach, flashes of images past filled my head, of the bloodbath I witnessed the last time I was in Damascus. I then vowed that I wouldn't return to the city, not for all of the money and gold in the world.

Grabbing my shoulder, Altair pushed me against a wall once we were clear of crowds. "You knew of this, didn't you?" he growled, glaring at me.

Shaking my head, I felt fear rise in me. "No, I knew of the fire yes, but not how far it would get. Please believe me, Altair, I did not see this destruction, this amount of pain and suffering. I did not see any of this."

Pulling away, he blinked, a sort of clear look passed his face. "Then nothing is set in stone if you didn't see this much." Looking back at me, he frowned. "Will the future change because of this change?"

I shook my head. "No, it won't." I then thought back to what I knew of the game and quickly compared it to what I saw then. Of course I didn't see fires and people dying, it would have altered the map of Damascus and therefore, altered the way Altair assassinated Jubair. It would have also tampered with what Kalil would have said. Would the rafik still say the same lines? Would he not know of what was happening? "Wait, something would have changed, but not enough to be significant."

Without a word, Altair took off again, hurrying to the bureau. Not bothering with the roof's top, Altair's fist pounded at the door on the side. I looked around to see if any were watching, especially a red helmed Templar but as far as I knew, these people in the poor district were oblivious to what was happening. Instead, they gossiped amongst themselves. Catching a phrase or two, I could hear that a few had no clue as to what was going on in the other two districts. Of course not. The poor district was just that, poor. The poor have no need for paper, only the supplies to survive.

The door creaked open and I could hear the rafik talking. "It's the hero of Damascus! Come in, stay a while, tell me of your adventures!" Kalil said, opening the door completely, making his way back to the main room of the bureau.

As Altair and I followed, I shutting the door after, I could hear the assassin growl. "I'm afraid I don't have the time."

Walking in the room, I could see the familiar pottery lining the walls, my ears catching the feign hurt in the rafik's voice. "I see, too important for me now."

Altair shook his head, his hood moving as he rose his hand. "It's not that..." he started, trying to find an excuse.

Kalil just smiled and right away I could tell that he was joking. "No, no, of course not," he said, waving a hand to dismiss it all together, winking in my direction. "How may I serve you then?"

Very serious again, Altair's shoulders straightened. "Al Mualim has asked I take the life of the one they called Jubair."

Recognition hit the rafik's face. He has heard of this man before. "Ah... Saladin's chief scholar." Looking over at Altair, I could see that he was trying to think of how Jubair fit into the puzzles of the Templars. "Strange choice of target, in my opinion. But who am I to question the master's work," he said quickly, as if Al Mualim had heard him and put a feather out for his head. "I'm sure he has his reasons."

Altair turned to me before looking back at Kalil. "Then you are familiar with the man?"

Shrugging, Kalil shook his head. He only knew of him, as did anyone else outside the ranks of Saladin's circle. "He has been quite busy these past few days, organizing the scholars and sending them into the streets to preach."

"What do they speak of?"

"Light and fire, cleansing sins."Altair's fists clenched again, harder this time, the worn leather he wore creaked. "Apocalyptic nonsense if you ask me, all this talk of paths and a new world." Kalil rolled his dark eyes.

"What of this new world?" I asked, hoping more could be told for Altair's sake.

Kalil turned to me and shrugged. "Couldn't say. I don't pay attention to the ramblings of mad men; much too busy with real work," he said, flourishing a hand over his pots and tomes. Of course, his earnings for him and his wife and his job as a rafik. Of course he wouldn't get out as much.

The assassin nodded. "Very well, I'll walk among the people, see what I can learn. Where would you suggest I search?"

Kalil pulled out a map and pointed at a roughly drawn square. Not a professional map such as the ones Malik works on but it would work for Altair. "South of here is an academy and a guard tower. They are both good places to search." Looking back down at the map, Kalil then pointed along the side of the map, following invisible marks, as if following steps leading to the next location. "There is also a hospital to the east you might want to visit."

Altair nodded, studying the map before looking up. "I'll begin at once."

Kalil smiled and nodded, rolling up the map before pointing it in Altair's direction. "So eager! You're certainly change, and for the better, I might add." I saw the corner of Altair's lips rise just a fraction before he set off to the courtyard, fixing his bracers and climbed the wall, beginning his mission. "Tell me, is Altair...different to you?"

I smiled before turning my attention back to the rafik. "Have you stepped away from the district in the past two days?"

Kalil shook his head. "I have not. I have no need to. Is there something wrong besides Jubair's actions?"

I sighed before shaking my head. "You'll learn soon enough," I said quietly. I didn't bother with asking him questions, especially since I only would have to unravel the truth for myself.

"Tell me, you have become as cryptic as the man who was just here. What has changed since our last meeting?"

Looking over at Kalil, I sighed, lowering my gaze before looking back up at him. "If anything, I'm realizing the reason why I do what I must do, why I have to sit and watch Altair go through his mission without interfering. It's maddening to know that I can't help, that I have to just watch idly."

Kalil nodded, walking to me as he laid a hand on my shoulder. "Life isn't a path we all know and can walk down easily. Even you must go down it blindly." I nodded. "I may not know what you see or have seen, Elisheba, but I know that you can go on normally."

I shook my head, closing my eyes. "That's just it, I can't. There...there's something I may have to do soon, but I don't know if my interfering with mess it up or set things as I know it will. That's a gamble I have to take."

"And if you don't?"

"If I don't... if I don't, and the events aren't as I know, then I've just messed everything up."

I could tell that he had given my words a lot of thought because he patted my shoulder, pulling away. "Then meditate on what you must do."

A/N: Second for today. I MAY put up a third if I have time, otherwise, it'll be another two chapters next weekend.


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter Fifty-Six

A/N: I thank all of you who have continued to love this fic even though I have been on a stupid hiatus. I LIVE!

Watching the pigeons walking around, their heads bobbing, I sighed, my knees close to my chest. There was nothing to really meditate on. It was either interfere and save Maria's life or take a gamble and risk her death. Altair isn't one to be spontaneous so I'd have to tell him, but that wouldn't be smart because he would ask questions, even more so. Would I have to tell him everything? I hoped not, I didn't want to lie to him anymore. I sighed against before my cramps started. Groaning, I held onto my lower belly, curling on my side as I tried to will them away.

I never liked this part of womanhood, I don't think there is a woman who did unless they were wishing against pregnancy. I hated the pain, to know that every month I'd feel my body practicing birthing techniques even though I was nowhere near pregnant. Taking a deep breath, I bit my lower lip to stop from screaming as I curled up harder with pain.

"You should have said something," I heard before two thumbs pushed against my pain. It was like a knife suddenly stabbed into me as the digits bruised me. I screamed from the pain, ready to lash out at the one hurting me but as I sat up, I stopped. My cramps, they were gone! Looking up, I saw Kalil with a grin on his face. "Surprised?"

"Overly. How did you do that?" Standing, I felt my body telling me I stained my pants. I was afraid I would and now that I have, I was beginning to worry.

The rafik only smiled knowingly before gently tugging on my elbow. "My wife has the same problems from time to time." Leading me in the back to where I once bathed, he held up a hand. "Wait here." Oh yeah, as if I had anywhere to go. Crossing my arms, I waited as patiently as I could before seeing him return, a drab colored fabric in his hands. "Change into these and before you ask, know that I have experience with my wife."

Okay...so he got me there. Taking the pants in hand, I noticed a pair of underwear hidden away as well as a bunch of small rags. I was beginning to think he was a pervert, but then again, he didn't seem the type and if he had things like this here, it made me wonder if his wife has stopped by from time to time. Setting down the clothes, I shut the door before untying the sash around my waist.

The sash made me think about the woman in Masyaf. Who was she exactly? She didn't look familiar to me and she certainly didn't give any clues as to who she was so was she something from the Apple or was she just a ghost? The boy in Acre as well, he was...different. A thought hit my mind hard as I quickly went through my feminine role and redressed. I felt a little better now that I didn't have to worry about that. Rushing out of the and into the bureau, I stopped short in the doorway.

What I saw was private.

The rafik was there, holding a woman close as her arms were around his neck, the two of them sharing a kiss. As he pulled away, a bright smile covered Kalil's face. "This is good news. And you are certain?"

"Very. Oh, my love, I am so happy," she said breathlessly. Letting out a breath, I knew what they were talking about. Kalil was holding his wife, sharing the joy of knowing that a babe was growing in her womb. I felt happy for them. I couldn't imagine anyone else as a better father. He was always smiling, very loving, and with his own excitement, he would see that his child would grow up to be a happy one. "Shall I see you tonight?"

"Of course, there is nothing in this world that could separate me from you." Picking up his wife, he spun her around, laughing as he set her back down, a gentle kiss on her forehead. I quickly turned away, not wanting to see it anymore. Their business was private and it wasn't something I should interfere with and trample over.

I suddenly wondered of what would happen. True, I only knew of Altair and a bit of Malik and Maria from the codex Altair would soon write, but everyone else was a mystery to me. I was just as lost as they were when it came to the future, of what would happen. Of course, I didn't know how everyone's story truly ends, I only know so much. I sighed before quickly leaving the bureau, finding a ladder propped against a wall. Climbing it, I could feel the sand as it had seeped into the cracks of the wood, groaning with movement. Ignoring the warning the wood gave me, I climbed to the top, looking around at Damascus. If I had an artist's eye, I would appreciate how soft the colors blended together, how the sky is a sharp contrast to the sandy walls and stone. But I didn't and it wasn't the colors of the world I was looking for, it wasn't the pages of the scribe who wrote down what a crier called out, of what color the produce was that the merchants were selling, no, I was searching for something I couldn't see from my position.

A man all in white, climbing and clambering up walls and towers.

I feared for Altair. This mission was a mission that held more than just human lives at stake, more than just a few upset people, no, this mission was about something sacred that many would not touch. Religion was something I may not have but I had enough respect to know that one doesn't mess with such important things to others.

I heard a door creak open below me, the bureau door, only to see Kalil and his pretty wife step out. I stepped away again, finding the hole on the roof to drop me into the bureau courtyard, scaring many of the pigeons in the process. Silly birds.

I heard the door close before a soft chuckle rang through the air. "Such happy news," Kalil said excitedly.

I nodded, smiling. "I heard. Congratulations are in order I believe." I could see him grinning from ear to ear. "May your first born be male."

"A toast! A toast, such a toast cannot be done without wine I believe."

I wanted to deny him the toast, that I would keep to the Islamic ways and forgo alcohol but when I was here previously, he offered me a drink then as well. I couldn't deny him if he himself wouldn't follow the religion. Not all in the middle east shared the same views, the same religion. Smiling, I nodded. I watched him pour the crimson liquid into two goblets before handing me one. Raising it we nodded, a simple toast, both knowing what to before we drank.

It was putrid, gross, and warm, and with a face, I swallowed my gulp. "That is awful, where did you get it?"

Kalil laughed, returning the jug from under the counter. "Merchant sold it to me a few days ago. True, it has turned sour but it will still do the job, for blessing or for medicine." Ah yes, he believed wine to be good for the body and soul. Well, glass of wine a day...

"I've noticed something about you, Kalil. Where most bureaus have at least a horde of assassins at their beck and call, you are bare. Why is that?" I slid the goblet away, not wanting anymore of the disgusting drink. I'd rather drink from the public fountain than that nasty gross liquid again.

Turning to a tome behind him, Kalil set it down, opening it to a page, the words in Hebrew as well as Arabic but I could barely make out some German and English. "These were mine. They have long since gone to other cities or returned to Masyaf. Damascus may not be the safest of places, certainly not Masyaf but it isn't a plagued by Templars as many believe." Thinking on it, I supposed it was true. Jubair was actually pretty tame with the burning of books, the Merchant King had always thinned the population so perhaps he had unknowingly destroyed some Templars as well and Talal had only sold those who would have been seen as scum in the streets.

I frowned suddenly. I was beginning to see the light in the Templar ways. Talal sold the scum that Garnier had manipulated into thinking this was a good thing, selling them to Tamir so that they could do work somewhere else, do good somewhere. Sibrand had blocked troops from going to Richard's aid to stop the crusade. Abu'l Nuqoud had thinned down what wasn't sold, freeing up some of the economy and living space for those in Damascus. Majd Addin created examples on why there has to be order and peace, so that any corruption had to be easily snuffed out, such as the books Jubair was burning.

But that wasn't right...right? I was beginning to confuse myself. The line wasn't as bold for me as it was for either side, that what they were doing was right and the other wrong. No, I could see both pros and cons for it. "But it would still be beneficial for you to have some assassins around, for the safety of your wife and unborn, don't you think?"

For the first time, I saw Kalil upset. "Don't bring them into this. She doesn't know about this to keep her safe. Al Mualim believes family makes a person weak, that they could be used to our enemies advantage. I will not let her know of all of this to keep her safe."

I could only back away and nod, realizing that he was right, that there was nothing I could say or do to make his mind change. If he felt that he was strong enough to protect her and their unborn, then so be it, I wouldn't fight him on it, I would only wish him luck.

I went to the corner of the bureau, sitting in a corner as I watched Kalil calm down, sighing as he resumed his task in writing something on a scroll, all while looking at a pot that had not been colored.

Scared by a sudden feathered beast flying in the room, I missed the grunt of a man as he landed in the courtyard, walking into the bureau. Kalil looked up, smiling at the familiar assassin. "What news, Altair?"

Altair didn't turn my way, and I for one was grateful. I wouldn't have to worry about him asking me to indulge him on information. "I have learned much about my enemy. " He didn't sound happy and I knew why. I just hoped that this would have an effect on Kalil.

Always excited, Kalil turned to a fresh page. "Share what you know then." I saw him dip a quill into a ink well, ready to write the newly acquired information.

"Jubair has become obsessed with purging the city of its knowledge."

I could see Kalil look up the quill stopping in mid word as he stared in horror and disgust. "A most terrible crime. Now I see why Al Mualim wants you to remove him." Returning to the book, he waited.

Altair waved a hand to the doorway, as if showing Kalil of what was going on in his city. "He's using the city's scholars to assist him," he ground out. "They go out into the streets, harassing the people and collecting all of their written words." Yes, the Torah, the bible, even the Quran. All of them had ideals that went against the Templar Order. "I fear he intends to destroy them all!"

This confused me, it always had. Why was Altair so adamant about the burning of books. I for one saw it as a waste of a good story but him, this was deeper than just a story or religion, both of which he had no interest in, so why?

Kalil could only nod. "He must be stopped!" Again, the anger flared, but this time, not towards me.

Now calm, as if taking a deep breath, Altair nodded, his hood moving. "That's why I'm here," he said calmly, looking to the rafik. "He's to hold a meeting soon, at the Madrasah Al-Kallāsah. It's where I'll go, it's where I'll take his life."

Kalil finished writing, nodding as he did before reaching under the counter, pulling out a feather and setting it down on the counter in front of the deadly assassin. As Altair tucked the feather away in his robes, Kalil spoke very solemnly. "I'll leave you alone to prepare. Bring glory to the brotherhood." As Altair went into the courtyard, perhaps to think, Kalil gave me a look.

I stood, keeping my eyes away from his as I followed Altair out. "His robes will be different, since he's the leader. Best to wait when it's dusk. The burnings will show you where he is." Altair only nodded, going to the fountain, cupping water in the palm of his hand before bringing it to his lips. "Why do you care, about the books?"

"You once asked what my teachings were. They came from similar books like those. Those that he's burning hold knowledge he wishes to deny the people."

So that was it. I could only nod as I looked away. "You'd have to kill the others too. Even if Jubair dies, they will continue to round up every slip of paper and see it touch flame."

Altair pulled away from the fountain and turned to look at me. Already I had forgotten his height and intimidation. "Why do you care for paper? You can't read our words." It was a fair question.

I looked away. "I hope to learn one day so I wouldn't have to depend on you constantly." Feeling his hand on my shoulder, I could see trust in his eyes again when I looked back. "I can't depend on you forever, Altair. After all, who will look after you?"

The corner of his lips twitches before he moved his hand away, looking up at the sky. "I don't have long to wait."

"Be careful, Altair." I turned my back to him, feeling a cold chill run down my back. Something was going to happen and soon. I just hoped that I wouldn't be in danger.

Kalil lifted his head up from what he was writing before catching a pigeon. "Maybe a few more eyes wouldn't be so bad," he said with a smile, but I could tell that underneath, he was scared for his blooming family. What husband and father wouldn't be?

A/N: WHEW! FINALLY!


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed, it is the work of Ubisoft.

A/N: Alright, so now that I am back and raring to go.

I had played a single session of chess by myself as Kalil went into the back, preparing something I suppose, I didn't know, I could only hear things shifting in the back, but from the peek holes to the courtyard, I could see Altair sitting quietly, taking his time in thinking of how he would handle his mission. I knew better than to disturb him so I stayed out of the way, hoping that nothing would happen to him and that he would return. He had to come back.

When the sky had begun to show the first glimpses of twilight, Altair stood, scaring the pigeons that were nesting down for the day , climbing up the wall as he pulled himself up to the roof. I heard him pause before hearing his feet heading in one direction. I just hoped he would be back before midnight rolled around. For maybe the few times I worried over Altair, this was one of them.

Taking a break from whatever it was he was doing in the back, Kalil pulled out a purse of coins. "Here, go and fetch something to eat."

I tried to argue when I was ushered out, but since this was the poor districts, perhaps I was safe from the Templar's burnings. I wasn't ready to face the fires. "Go to the end of this street and take a left. When you reach the city wall, you should be there. Get whatever looks good."

"Be where? Kalil?" But no more was said, he had shut the door. "What's up with him?" Making sure my shawl was in place, I followed directions, making sure the purse was firmly in my hand. I didn't want to get mugged, especially since there was a Templar running amok. That was just not on my list of priorities at the moment. To be honest, it was everyone else that scared me more than a Templar. Jubair I knew through the game so I didn't have to worry about him since his mind was set on burning books and everything. But it was those that lurked in the shadows, those who were dangerous, suspicious. I could hear my father's voice in my head, warning me to never walk in the dark by myself. Fear gripped my heart but curiosity and duty took over. What could have been so important that I had to...oh!

I couldn't believe my eyes. I had heard of communities working together on just about anything but never did I know that they were also responsible for making everyone's meal as well. This was a new one to me. Looking around, I could see meat roasting over a fire, a man with a large belly covering them with herbs and sauces as he rotated them by hand, making sure nothing burned. Children sat nearby, either carrying what the men needed, feeding the younger children, or even shelling what looked like peas or some type of fruit.

Woman chattered as they sat in a circle, preparing bread with designs crafted by their fingers, dull blades, and left over dough, setting them on large trays to be baked. Already I could tell that the large designed breads would be delicious but with how they looked at the moment, these breads would be for them later that evening after they were baked. Maybe it would be nice to prepare some bread like that as well. Maybe I could learn...

My nose caught something familiar though, like freshly baked donuts but when I peeked around to see, I saw something surprising. Something very similar to what Kalil had given me the previous time I was here. "Excuse me," I asked a woman, nodded at the golden sweets. "What are those?"

Looking at what I was talking about, the woman smiled. "They are jalebi."

"Jalebi?" Was that Arabic for donut?

She laughed, a sweet high pitched laugh. "It's something brought over by those in the east. They are cooked in such a way I've never seen before, but they are so wonderful and sweet. I would recommend getting them hot. The honey is warm that way." She looked at the food fondly, as if she herself was proud of the food.

Looking back when she left, I could tell that this new style of cooking was very similar to frying. But oh, it did look good. My stomach demanded I get the sweets but I wasn't really sure if I should. However, I had to get some food, not snacks. Walking around, I kept them in mind, hoping to have another. I recognized the kebabs right away, asking for a few skewers with a variation of meats ranging from beef to lamb and everything but pig in between. Of course, the men serving the foods had a fresh parting in their hair so they wouldn't have pig in their foods, it was forbidden.

Having the meat wrapped in skins and fabrics, I walked around some more, picking up a few fruits as well, keeping in mind that I didn't have a way of carrying much. I wished for a basket or maybe some sort of bag but my arms would have to do. It wasn't that far of a walk so I was panicking over nothing.

With my arms full, the purse a few coins lighter, I headed back to the bureau, only to be stopped by the woman from earlier, her shawl showing some of her hair. "For you," she said with a smile, handing me a circular looking fabric a few inches high. "Don't worry about paying, I just hope you enjoy."

Blinking, I nodded my thanks. Bread, meats, fruits and steamed vegetables in my arms, a feast almost. I smiled happily, quickly making my way back to the bureau, only having to slow down with a disturbed man got in my path. His incoherent babble warning me that they were near so I had enough time to slow down. I was scared of them. The victims were different from me, scary; mentally hindered from whatever a Templar had done to them or simply born that way. I tried to go slow around him, to ease by without startling the man or raising alarm.

Pity stopped me from just leaving. As I turned to look back, seeing the emptiness in his eyes, I let out a breath, kneeling down as I pulled a skewer free, letting it lean against the wall by us. I couldn't help him, I couldn't help any of them. I wasn't a saint, Mohammad or even the All Mighty Himself. Something flashed in the man's eyes. The sight of food? A small insignificant act of kindness? I don't know and to be honest, I didn't stick around to find out. Gathering the food in my arms again, I hurried down the street, not looking back to see if he took what I left or if he walked away.

Finally reaching the bureau, I kicked the door with my foot as gently as I could, my arms too full to knock properly. Almost right away, the door opened and I was greeted with a smile. "Kebabs and bread! What a feast!" His smile widened as he took the breads from me, ushering me back in. "So many too."

"You are overly happy about food," I said, walking inside the bureau's main room, setting down the kebabs, pulling the steamed vegetables from their pouch at my waist. "They had...jalebi?" And I wished I hadn't said anything because the look on his face was that of pure joy and want. "I'm not going out again," I quickly said, pulling at a piece of hot lamb meat, burning my fingers as I popped it in my mouth, burning my tongue but oh, it was tender.

Pulling pieces of meat free, I looked over at the courtyard. How long would Altair be? The scholars were everywhere, was he hoping to kill them before the others were alerted? I wish I knew. I had only skipped the other scholars just to go to Jubair but I wondered if Altair would take my advice. I didn't know if it would be true that the scholars would continue Jubair's work but honestly, it was better to be safe than sorry in this way. But was I wrong?

Hearing a loud sigh, my attention was caught again. "I must lie to my wife. My love for her is great but I do have a duty to the brotherhood, to that of my master."

Are all assassins like this? Do they play the part of a lover or husband then have a secret life in the brotherhood? In Altair's codex, he said that Al Mualim thought families to be weak so does that mean that all assassins think that as well because of their master? "You said you'd see her later tonight..."

"Yes, and now I must go back against my word."

Biting my lower lip, I looked away, thinking on whatever I could to help him. He was right though, he had a duty to do, he was the rafik of Damascus, he couldn't ignore Altair's mission and go see his wife to share in the joy of their unborn. Ignoring the food that sat in front of me, I walked into the courtyard, my arms wrapping around my person as I looked up at the grate above me.

It was then that I swore that I would never marry an assassin.

-.-.-

When I awoke, I could hear feet walk next to me. I couldn't believe I had fallen asleep but then again, judging from how dark the sky was, it could have been well past midnight. Tucking my head back in the blankets, I heard the snores of Kalil end in a snort before a cough rang out.

Altair woke him up. "Altair! Tell me you have met with success?"

"Yes," Altair said, his deep voice sounding tired. This was late, perhaps even for him. Just what time was it exactly? "Jubair's fires are extinguished, his life as well."

"Excellent news!" Kalil was a bit too happy this early in the day. "I had no doubt that you would succeed!"

"You should have seen it, the scholars followed him so readily. It wasn't just books they fed to the fire either, but any many who opposed them." Already my mind went to the scene I had seen a few times, of a man being shoved in the flames, his skin peeling and falling off.

I was grateful I didn't follow Altair when he was killing his targets. Would I have a change of heart and wish for their life to be spared, even though I knew that they were wanting world control? It didn't matter to think of the past, what was done was done and now, with Robert left, I only had to look out for one person. Would it be enough?

Hearing a sigh from inside the bureau, I could hear a heavy tome open before the gentle scratching of a quill on paper. "Such ignorance breeds only evil." Did it? if I were ignorant to those who lives were different from my own, was I evil? Did I have an evil heart? "You've done a good thing this day."

Footsteps told me that Altair paced. "As with my other targets, he believed he was doing the right thing. Clearing a path for a better future."

Kalil tsked. "Of course he would, such is the landscape of a mad man's mind."

"The things I've seen these past few weeks... it's as if all the land has gone mad." Altair sounded tired, as if this mission was draining him.

"And this is why we fight to end the war, that sanity might return." However, Kalil took a breath, as if he himself was worn from everything. "The people are desperate for direction. It's easy for men like Jubair to prey on this and turn them to evil." The tome closed. "You should return to Al Mualim tomorrow, tell him what you saw, let him know the good you've done this day."

He didn't say it but I know what he was thinking. For Altair to tell Al Mualim that he has restored his honor. I was beginning to hate that word. Altair has honor, and true, he needed to grow some, but everyone grows. I wasn't the same person I was when I woke up in Jerusalem... have I grown with Altair?

I hoped that I did. My mind turned fuzzy as I felt sleep creep in, turning words muffled and noises into silence. I fell back inside sleep's embrace, hearing the two inside talking but what was strange was...I could hear a woman singing.

A/N: I'm sorry this is outside the designated update time but here it is and boy is it short. But hey, fic is almost done so maybe lateness is almost a good thing. I don't know, I'll let you decide on that.


	58. Chapter 58

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed, it is owned by Ubisoft.

A/N: Yeah, I know, long (a year, geez) unannounced hiatus. Life has literately kicked my ass. That and the beginning of this chapter sucks. I've fallen into the Tolkien fandom as well as Mass Effect. Didn't help that I utterly disliked AC3; Conner did not feel like an assassin in my opinion so I fell out of the creed. But I am back and have decided that I will have a complete story of this. It will go far, believe me, it may not end for another year. And to my self-proclaimed biggest fan, I appreciate your support IRL. Thank you so much.

My eyes opened for what would be the last time in Damascus. It felt strange leaving a city I knew so well from Altair's eyes and yet just began to know it for myself. Perhaps it was because I bonded with Kalil and that the man was so amazingly sweet. I wished him and his wife all the luck in the world, especially with a young one on the way. It reminded me of what Altair had said, would say, in his writings of the codex: that Al Mualim saw family as being a weakness. I wondered if it would be alright for the two of them to have a child, considering that Kalil was one of the creed. I just hoped that they wouldn't be torn apart but such trivial nonsense.

It made me pause however. A family could be considered a weakness, not because they could either be weaker or less knowledgeable to the world, but because the assassins would have such strong bonds with those they have blood with. Thinking on it, Malik barely escaped the tomb under Jerusalem with just his arm, how would he have fared had Kadar not been there, that it was just he and Altair instead. Would Malik have held Altair back? Would he have rushed with the assassin, possibly die in the process, or instead, would he have slunk back into the shade to report back to their master.

No, it wouldn't have been like that at all. Defending a brother, that was something every assassin held with such a strong passion. Altair had gone to the aid of an informant many times, even if it wasn't to receive information on his target or his surroundings. Still, looking over to the assassin in question, I could see that the man was making sure he was armed to the teeth, his throwing knives replenished as he tucked his small saber behind him, it sheathed and secured in its scabbard, a piece of leather sliding to hold the blade in. I had always wondered about that and now that I know the secret, I could only marvel at how stupid I had been at not knowing such a simple thing.

Gold eyes turned to me and I knew at once that we were leaving. Altair chose the most obvious of methods to go, I didn't. I didn't go jumping around roof to roof, I couldn't scale walls, and I certainly wasn't a parkour expert like Altair, I didn't dare follow him. As I walked to the back rooms, to leave, Kalil stopped me. "Have care, Elisheba. I feel as though something bad will happen," he said softly, worried.

How could I answer him? If what I thought was true, I would never see home, but I wouldn't stay with the assassins either. My place isn't to be by them, but I took every warning carefully. "I'll be careful, don't worry," I said with a smile, but in my gut, I was scared. "Safety and peace, Kalil. May you have a strong son."

"Inshallah," he whispered. God willing.

"Inshallah," I repeated, bowing my head before fixing my shawl around my head.

Turning my gaze to the roofs, I could see Altair staring down at me before he walked away, a sign for me to follow, though my path would be from the streets rather than on the roofs like a bird. I wondered when he would turn wise, when he would finally see and become the man I know he will be. He is so close, he just hasn't realized it.

My pace quickened when I saw Altair begin to speed up. I wasn't afraid he would leave me, I was only worried he would get me lost, especially since a lot of the streets didn't follow the roofs and I would get trapped in an alley. But as I continued on, I soon discovered that he wasn't actually leading me into a dead end but to the more traveled roads.

Thankful for Altair, it gave me time to think.

Would I need to tell Altair of Maria, of her and Robert's switch? Or would I let it go, and let Altair accidently kill the woman? Would I even be needed in Jerusalem? I didn't think I would considering that I wouldn't be changing anything. I would probably be hindering history now that I gave it some thought.

But that was already too late. I already changed things.

As I reached the gate of Damascus, having to push my way through like everyone else, I lost myself in thought as my body went into auto-pilot. Already on Glue's back on well on our way back to Masyaf, I let my mind wander.

Just why were the assassins and Templars fighting? There was never a good reason. To stop all Templar control? To ensure the peace of mankind? To me, it seemed that the Templars weren't trying to be in control, more like bring stability to the chaotic world. There were wars, discrimination and hatred. If they were trying to get rid of that, wouldn't the assassins see that? But then again, the assassins were doing the same, but instead of having a hold of the world, they sought to keep it free from any collar.

It didn't make sense in my mind though. They were fighting for the same thing, weren't they? Why didn't they just help each other out? Just what made one more special than the other? What was the main reason for the two to be on opposing sides? Couldn't they just see past their petty differences and see that they want the same thing? I remembered reading something on a board somewhere of how the craziness ensued, of how one had taken a Piece of Eden and was either corrupted or blinded by something and that's how it started.

Sibrand was scared of dying. He said there was nothing on the other side, but what did that mean? Had he seen the afterlife? Was it different for him than anyone else? It would change the face of religion as well as mess with the minds of those who are still questioning. While I myself was curious, I couldn't help but wonder what happened back home. I should have died in that car accident. Now that I think on it, I am pretty sure that I did.

There would have been no way I would have survived, I would have died and as they were cleaning up the scene, my family would have been notified and they would mourn. Lowering my head, the setting sun burning my eyes, I couldn't help but silently cry, keeping behind Altair all the while.

I didn't want him to know I was crying, to know that I was a dead girl walking. Regardless, it wouldn't have mattered. He wouldn't understand it but to be honest, I'm kind of glad he didn't.

We made our nightly stops along the way, all the while I kept to myself. He needed to concentrate on what was happening around him and I wasn't in the mood to talk. Though I did notice him glancing my way from time to time, he made no attempt to try to bring a conversation up.

I suppose he knew I needed time to myself.

A/N: Short, I know. But hey, thank you all for sticking by me all this time. Big thank you to everyone for their support and their kind words. And a HUGE thank you to my buddy Emily. THANK YOU, GIRL!


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Disclaimer: I do not own the Assassin's Creed series.

A/N: Alright, I went back and reread reviews. People, go to bed. You don't have to read all of my fic in one night. Please, take time to go do human things. With that said, I have a question that I would like to have answered. **Which game should I end this with? **Should I end it with Assassin's Creed, where Altair gets the Apple, in Bloodlines where he traveled with Maria, or Revelations? I have the endings ready to be written, I would like your opinions though. Let me know in the reviews.

Rubbing my eyes, I yawned. Having traveled with Altair back to Masyaf was beginning to take its toll on me. I had saddle sores, my thighs and hips were hurting from riding and my back was complaining. Staying on horseback was not comfortable, ever. Worst pain still, being on horseback while on my period, I wouldn't wish it on anyone else.

Upon arriving in Masyaf, I couldn't help but notice how much quieter it was. The village's noise seemed to have died down and judging the sun, it should have been at its peak. I don't understand.

Then it hit me.

The Apple.

Al Mualim must have gotten busy during our time away but surely not everyone was affected. Getting off Glue's back, I patted his flank, trying to figure it all out. "Market seems…quiet today," I noted, trying to give a clue to Altair but the assassin only glanced my way before continuing on the path to the library. I heard Anisa whicker at her assassin before the man went to her, an arm wrapping around the large head as he whispered something quietly. Smiling, I left the stables, seeing that Glue was properly secured in a stall and already getting brushed down.

Already I could see the tall library sitting high on the hill, looking down at the village, such as the master of the assassins looks down at them. A shudder came over me, an unease coming over me. Not feeling good, I turned my gaze away from the building, not wanting to think on what lay inside.

I had little choice though, to keep my ploy up as one who gives messages to Al Mualim about Altair's mission; an outside opinion of that of the rafik and Dai. Of course, I couldn't tell Altair that it was all a lie. He'd probably never trust me again.

Still, as we walked through the village, I could see that he gave it a lot of thought, of why his master was ordering him to take the lives of the nine, trying to piece everything together. Oh Altair, you are so close but you are dense sometimes. You had to have seen, to have known, if not an inkling of doubt.

Then it hit me. Would he have told me if he were suspicious? No, I don't think he would have. I had claimed loyalty to Al Mualim by giving him a false lie. Like an idiot, I closed a connection between the two of us, one that should have remained open. I couldn't go back on what I did, what I've said, I could only hope that we could get past this.

The guards were silent, the training ring empty and bare. Ra'uf wasn't anywhere to be seen, the guards were much too relaxed in their positions, like they were all asleep. I bit my lower lip, worried now. If Al Mualim had done this, what could he do next? How far was his reach? It affected me, even in Acre. Could it go further? Perhaps that was why the Templars in Desmond's time wanted all seven, so they could reach the world and control it.

As we entered the library, I noticed the garden doors were closed and locked, the sounds from the inside quiet. The girls would have usually been chirping and talking, giggling and laughing, this was different. The village was much too quiet.

"Come in, my student. We have much to discuss," Al Mualim's voice called out, like a roar in a tomb. It scared me, making me nearly jump out of my skin. Altair's steps faltered, only slightly. He wasn't expecting it either and I couldn't help but smile that someone startled the assassin. As we neared the master's desk, I could see Al Mualim looking out the window. He had seen us walking up, perhaps he knew that I looked around, viewing the guards. An iron ball grew in my belly as I saw the Apple in its cradle, sitting innocently on Al Mualim's desk.

"We are close, Altair. Robert de Sable is all that stands between us and victory." I didn't like the way he said it, it was as if he could taste the word victory, that he craved it more than anything else. "His mouth gives the orders; his hand pays the gold. With his death dies the knowledge of the Templar treasure, and any threat it might pose." His long fingers stroked the curve of the Apple.

That was a lie. I knew of it, Altair did, Malik, even Al Mualim himself. And how many Templars were out there, seeking to reclaim what Robert failed to capture? They knew of it as well, I bet.

"I still don't understand how a simple bit of treasure could cause so much chaos," Altair spoke. He never knew greed, never had anything he truly loved in terms of objects. Perhaps the only thing he held dear to himself was his hidden blade. But that would be due to training. An assassin without a blade was a dead one, one unable to defend themselves properly.

"The Piece of Eden is temptation given form," Al Mualim said, looking at the Apple longingly. His mismatched eyes looked back up to his pupil. "Merely look what it's done to Robert," he stated, his arm extended as if the Templar himself was standing nearby. "Once he tasted of its power, the thing consumed him." I noticed then that he was walking away from his desk, as if he was reminding himself that he should expose himself only so much. "He saw not a dangerous weapon but a tool, one that would help him realize his life's ambition." I couldn't help but wonder if he was referring to himself or the Templar then.

Altair's eyebrows furrowed. "He dreamed of power then?"

Al Mualim lowered his head. "Yes and no," he said, sounding tired. "He dreamed – still dreams – like us, of peace."

Altair shook his head, not understanding. "But this a man who sought to see the Holy Land consumed by war!"

His master shook his head. "No, Altair. How could you not see when you're the one who has opened my eyes to this?"

The assassin's head tilted, only slightly. "What do you mean?"

"What do he and his followers want?" A slight hesitation passed between them. "A world in which all men are united. I do not despise this goal, I share it. But I take issue with the means. Peace is something to be learned, to be understood, to be embraced."

Altair suddenly understood, that was clear when he frowned. "He would force it," he said with conviction.

His master nodded. "And rob us of our free will in the process."

"Strange…to think of him in this way…"

"Never harbor hate for your victims, Altair. Such thoughts are poison and will cloud your judgement." I frowned. Altair didn't hate Robert when he said that though, at least, that's not what it sounded like to me.

"Could he not be convinced then, to end his mad quest?" Altair asked, almost like he was seeking a reason to bring the two together. An assassin talking freely to a Templar? It was a mad thought but it might work.

Al Mualim shook his head. "I spoke to him in my way, through you," he said, pointing a finger to Altair. "What was each killing but a message? But he has chosen to ignore us."

Altair let out a breath, hoping for another answer. "Then there's only one thing left to do…" Darkness entered his voice again, his body straightening with steel ambition.

Al Mualim nodded, a proud look in his eyes. "Jerusalem is where you faced him first, it's where you'll find him now. Let this final offering lend you strength," he said, going back behind his desk. "Go, Altair, it's time to finish this."

On the desk sat a familiar sword. A familiar sight, one I looked forward to when I played as Ezio. The sword of Altair. The hilt had that of an eagle, wings spread as talons curled, ready to sink into the flesh of his opponent. As Altair's fingers encircled around the weathered grip, the leather of his glove and grip groaned together before he pulled his borrowed blade from the sheath, securing his back to his person.

The borrowed blade was laid where the other was before the assassin looked over at me. He was complete now, rank fully restored. I smiled before nodding my head, eyes closed with respect.

"Elizabeth, a word, if you will." I turned my gaze to Al Mualim, fear in my gut again. I held my breath, walking to the desk. Altair was dismissed, he couldn't stay by my side, as much as I wanted him to. When the boot steps of the assassin faded and his figure was seen in the window, the older man turned to me.

"I am disappointed but now I know," he said quietly. Fear shook my body until a tight grip came over me. My heart pounded. "Robert will tell him, I am certain, but you, you will be my hand when I am here."

"No, don't do this!" I pleaded, not understanding why my body was frozen. It wasn't until I saw the Apple in his hand. Wait! How can it be there, when it's in the cradle?

A copy…I should have known. The Apple had markings, but the fake didn't. Altair wouldn't have known that, he wasn't suspicious. I should have known.

I didn't have time to scream, didn't have time to even breath.

Gold flooded my vision…

-.-.-

I don't know how long I sat there by the well in the village, but when Altair's hand touched my shoulder, I turned, seeing it was time to go. We said nothing but I could only blink as I realized how close we were to the stables. My head, it felt fuzzy. I last remembered… I was walking to the library… little else filled my head.

I mounted a horse, not Glue, but one who wasn't tired, one who hadn't eaten the bad foods of Acre. Petting Glue's flank as I passed him by, I smiled, knowing that I would see him again. The mare beneath me, a chestnut with strong legs, only bobbed her head, eager to run and go.

Clicking my tongue, I followed the assassin, his own a white horse, black on his legs the traveled up from his hooves. He didn't speak, his hood turned my way though, sometime in his eyes. A question, one he didn't ask. I only looked away.

We went to Jerusalem, he to kill Robert, I to make sure he did so.

A blade at my waist made sure I would remember my mission.

A/N: Sorry I missed the midnight. It's still out on Sunday, well, for me. Don't forget to let me known which ending you'd like to see. As I said, I've got an ending for all of them.


	60. Chapter 60

Chapter Sixty

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.

A/N: Alright, I live. Life, work, and family have gotten in the way of this fic. Work especially. Working in retail is not easy on a gamer. I'll try and get this done quickly though. Thank you to those who reviewed. I missed them so much. Also, notice the cover, drawn by my good friend Emily. THANK YOU, EMILY! I love her to death. Shout out to her fic Just Beyond My Reach.

The sharp blade at my side kept reminding me of my mission, of what I shall do. I could only hope my stomach would be able to handle the degree of it. Looking at the assassin over our roaring fire, I could tell he was ever eager to finish his mission, to end Robert. But should something happen…

I could only hope I wouldn't use the blade on my companion.

A woman's face flashed in my head. Who is she? I feel as though I know her.

Still, looking at the golden eyes that reflected the flame's light, I was unsure of this mission. It didn't feel right, didn't feel as though it was to happen. But Master Al Mualim had given me this mission and I will carry it out without question. I could only hope I could see forgiveness in Altair's eyes.

I turned my gaze away, looking at the burning coals. "How long until we reach Jerusalem?" I wondered aloud, seeing Altair lower his hood, his fingers running through his honey color hair. "A week, right?"

"Less if we walk the horses," he said, looking up at the beasts as they slept quietly nearby. As he scratched an itch on the back of his head, he looked over at me before raising the hood back up. "I will see to it Robert will no longer breath."

"Don't be so eager to see blood flow, Altair. Vengeance is no way to go about." I reached a hand out to the fire, feeling the warmth spread over my skin. "Maj'd Addin's funeral will be very large, and Robert had spoken of going to it."

Altair's hood turned to me sharply. "When did you see Robert?"

I felt as though I should have kept that quiet. "When we were last in Acre, he and his party were heading out of the city as you were to finish Sibrand."

"And you've kept quiet about this?" Altair growled out, not happy with the information I've withheld from him. His fists curled.

I frowned. "Would it have mattered? You were on your way to end Sibrand's madness. If you had chased after Robert, you would have failed in ending his life." Narrowing my eyes, I shook my head. "If you were to go after him, Al Mualim would have pulled your ranks again. You would not bring yourself honor. If you were to chase after him, if would be as if you were entering Solomon's Temple again, as if you hadn't learned anything that your master was trying to teach you again."

This made him stop as he looked away, trying to hide his shame. "Altair, I kept it from you so that you could prove yourself to Al Mualim, restore all that was taken from you, and once again, be seen with pride and respect instead of shame and dishonor. Altair, I did it to save your life."

Though he didn't turn my way, I heard the assassin sigh. He knew I was right. "I have faith that you will finish this mission with success," I said with a smile, reaching out and touched his arm, feeling the muscle under my touch, beneath the clothes flex. "I believe in you, Altair."

His eye peeked under the hood before he nodded. It reminded me of our conversation of faith. I didn't have faith like many, but I did have faith in him. Perhaps that was all that he needed, for someone to have faith in him. Either way, he reached his hand over and touched my own, four out of five fingers touching my bare skin before we looked away, back to the fire.

-.-.-

I awoke early, sitting up as I looked around. I wasn't sure what woke me but I could tell that the fire had been put out, sand smothering it. It was still dark out, perhaps a few hours after I had turned in for the night, not yet dawn, and yet, I was awake. I couldn't understand why until I hear it.

What sounded like scurrying but much louder, almost angry. I couldn't see what was happening around me but could tell that something was hitting me at the same time. Looking up, I felt it. A raindrop. I didn't know how long it would last and how much would fall but I for one was not want wanting to find out. Though by the time I had already had this thought in my head, I could tell it had also woken up Altair.

Hearing him sit up from his spot a few feet from me, I heard him groan and stretch before yawning. This to me was new, I had never heard him wake before, save for the nap the first time I had met him. "How long will this last?" I asked, not wanting to be on the ground. Wet sand was almost as annoying as dry sand.

"Not long." I rubbed an eye. Who could really tell how long a downpour would be? "The desert needed this; there was no rain last year." Already I could hear him doing something around the horses, meaning we were leaving earlier than intended.

Sighing, I went to my own mount, climbing on her before clicking my tongue. I was not happy about leaving when I was happily asleep but since we were both up, there was no point in just staying when we could be back on the move.

As I yawned, I could hear the assassin shift next to me, as if to get comfortable himself in the very early hours of the morning. I could only hope I wouldn't fall asleep again, needing very much to stay awake to know where we were heading. I have to know the way back, a little voice whispered it in my ear.

Know the way back.

Know the way home.

Back to Masyaf.

To know the way back to my master, to tell him I've finished my mission. To keep his secret…

…What secret?

Putting a hand to my head, I closed my eyes, feeling a sharp pain start behind my eyes, crawling around the top of my head, throbbing as the pulsating agony entered the back of my neck. What was wrong with me? I shouldn't have had a headache this intense for no reason. I need to remember…

But what is there to remember? My mission, yes.

It was easy. Altair trusts me enough to sleep around me. He will find the truth, he will know it all. I had to make sure he never tells a soul, never goes back to confront our master.

My blade's edge will feel skin and drink the blood of an assassin.

Putting a hand to the handle of my blade, I watched Altair. I have to keep an eye on him. He will know the truth, he will destroy everything our master's made, it will all-

"You seem eager to return to Jerusalem," he said suddenly, breaking my chain of dark thoughts.

Releasing my blade and holding onto the reins of my horse, I smiled shyly. "I am." Out of the corner of my eye, I could barely make out Altair's hood turning towards me, the moon's light breaking through the clouds as the rains passed by quickly. "I need to figure out why I arrived in Jerusalem, why it is that I ran into you." Altair nodded, seemingly pleased with the answer as his horse moved closer to mine, sharing body heat. "Besides, it would be nice to see everyone again."

"Everyone?"

I bit my lip. "Well, save for the German, he…he intimidates me." The hood turned again as the blue light of the moon's reflection bounced off his eyes, turning the rich gold into iced silver. "He frightens me, makes me feel weak and small…vulnerable."

"One of our tenants is to not hurt an innocent."

I turned to him, worried. "Can I be called an innocent, I who have seen the horrors of an assassin, witnessed firsthand a brutal massacre of a Templar and have viewed the underworld of death in Acre?"

Without warning, Altair's hand suddenly grabbed my wrist, stopping our horses, as he stared at me, his gaze unwavering. "You have not had blood on your hands."

Shaking, though not from the cold, I turned my gaze away, pulling my hand free from his grasp, guilt gnawing away at the back of my mind. No, not yet. But I didn't voice this thought, only urged the horse on, hearing the assassin's horse fall in step to mine.

A/N: I LIVE!


	61. Chapter 61

Chapter Sixty-One

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is Ubisoft related.

A/N: I am so very ashamed of myself for having pushed this to the back burner. I am so very sorry. No amount of reasoning will ever excuse my absence from this fic. With the newest title having been released, I realized what I had done and now I am back on track. I have also decided on an ending, thankfully. That being said, let's finally work on this fic, the ending in sight.

A hand on my shoulder jerked me awake as a blinding sun caused me to squint. Turning to my companion, I could see his gaze still ahead to our destination, not wanting to stop, not wanting to pause. The hand moved from my person, reaching into the saddlebag before pulling out a skin, handing it over. Taking it gratefully, I drank a small amount, letting the water on my lips dry on their own before I handed it back. It had been a full day since our conversation, an inner turmoil brewing in my head and heart.

With Jerusalem now on the horizon, the crowd of people much larger than before, I realized that this may be the last time I'd ever see the beautiful city. "They're here to pay their respects to Maj'd Addin," I muttered. Of course, he was a highly respected Templar amongst his brothers and he managed to rally up the crowd to join him in his cause so he'd be well loved and respected, if not feared. Fear was a powerful weapon but in the hands of a madman, it was a double edged sword. "Altair, you're nearly done."

Already I could see the man tense as he tried to calm down, tried to remember what he had done and why he must go through the ranks again. But no, it wouldn't be him, not him, but she will be there instead.

Hearing Altair click his tongue, we made our way through the crowd, blending in with those who had come, many of them dressed in plate mail of the Templars. I felt sorry for them, to be in the metal with the sun beating down on them. It would be enough to fry their brains. The plated armor would be difficult to bend and move, not to mention difficult to take on or off, where as they're chain mail would have been easier but at the same time, many of the links would have patches where a sword could pass through to kill. How I pity them.

Stopping to stock the horses at a near full stable, I could see others dressed in white atop of the walls. I smiled, knowing that they were Malik's men. They wouldn't be tainted… Ardeshir and Bahram, the wonderful twins, they stood, waiting. Smiling, I saw Ardeshir wave ecstatically. There were three others with them, but none were bulky with muscle. The German, Jaegar, was no where to be seen. Very off putting but at the same time, I felt relieved, fear fading away from me. I hoped I would never have to see him again. Looking to see Altair watching the crowd, I put my hand in his. "You have a mission, Altair, and you're nearly done with it."

And then, my blade would meet his heart as he slept.

I saw his hood turn to me and nod, our hands separating as I followed him through the city's gate, the guards just standing around, simply watching everyone. It would be hard to stop everyone and give them a pat down to see if they were the assassin or not, especially since there were so many coming for the funeral. It seemed that they didn't care who entered: Muslim, Christian, assassin, or pilgrims. They were all convening in one place. Made me very uneasy.

Still, we walked to the bureau, escorted from a distance of the other assassins. "This will be the end," Altair said quietly as he climbed the ladder of Malik's bureau, dropping through the grate. Following the assassin, I could smell the rich incense burning, hear quill on paper as peace filled the air. Already, the trouble maker of a cat purred around my feet when I landed, happy to see me once again.

Picking up the ball of fur, I walked inside, smiling at Malik as he lifted his head. There was a change. No malice or irritation filled his eyes, only peace, of wisdom, understanding. I smiled, knowing that I had some part in this.

"Safety and peace, Altair," Malik spoke softly, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

Altair shoulders dropped a little as relief filled his eyes. Yes, their friendship was renewed. "Upon you as well, brother."

Malik looked outside , moving from the map he was working on. "Seems fate has a funny way of things." Of course he would bring back the past. Robert was in Jerusalem at the same time as the two of them. The last this happened, Malik lost not only his arm, but his brother as well and Altair was stripped of his rank.

Altair nodded. "So it's true then, Robert de Sable is in Jerusalem."

The Dai nodded. "I have seen the knights myself." Frowning, he shook his head, obviously unhappy by what was going on.

Crossing his arms, Altair frowned. "Misfortune follows that man. If he is here, it is because he intends to ill; I won't give him that chance." Oh, Altair, don't be so hasty.

"Do not let vengeance cloud your thoughts, brother," Malik said, putting his hand to his empty sleeve. "We both know no good can come of it."

"I've not forgotten." Golden eyes stayed on the sleeve, to the empty space beside his friend. He caused Malik so much grief. "You have nothing to fear. I do not seek revenge, but knowledge."

Malik smiled, his arm lowering. "Truly you are not the man I once knew." His dark eyes glanced my way, as if saying that I helped changed Altair's character.

The hooded assassin shook his head, closing his eyes. "My work has taught me man things, revealed many secrets." Opening his eyes again, he looked at the other. "But there are still piece of this puzzle I do not possess."

Malik's eyebrows came together. "What do you mean?"

"All the men I have laid to rest have worked together, united by this man. Robert has designs upon the land, this much I know for certain. But how and why, when and where…" Altair shook his head. "These things remain out of reach."

Looking confused, Malik shook his head slowly. "Crusaders and Saracens…working together?"

Altair's eyes flashed to me before landing on the Dai again. "There are none of these things, but something else: Templars."

"The Templars are a part of the Crusader army," Malik said, a finger raised as if stating a fact.

"Or so they'd like King Richard to believe. No, their allegiance is to Robert de Sable in some mad idea that they will stop the war."

"You spin a strange tale."

"You have no idea, Malik," Altair said, shaking his head, as if he didn't want to believe it either. "But tell me where they've been seen; I should be after him before he slips away."

Pulling out a map of Jerusalem, Malik set it on a counter, away from the one he was currently working on, not wanting to ruin the still fresh ink. "There are three places I can say for certain: west of here, near both a guard tower and a hospital," he said, pointing it out of the map. "And to the southwest, at the church of the Holy Sepulchre. See what you can learn, I will do the same."

Nodded, Altair checked his hidden blade on his wrist. "I'll be as quick as I can."

Malik nodded. "Stay safe, my friend."

Without waiting for permission, I followed Altair out to the courtyard. Already the assassin was checking to see if his hidden blade was properly working, flicking his wrist as the blade ejected, the glimmer of steel shining in the sunlight. I couldn't leave the bureau like I had wanted, couldn't go out to explore a city I already knew, to find the reason of my arrival but instead, I feel as though a different path has been chosen for me.

I will never see home again. I had finally come to terms with the fact that I will never see my family again.

Closing my eyes, I willed my tears away, reminding myself that right now, this was more important, that I had to put aside my own feelings, my own selfishness so that Altair could finish his mission.

His mission before my life. I am one person, he will inspire the world.

Still, I looked over to see the assassin, knowing that he was waiting for me to say something. But what? "It's almost done, you'll soon be a master assassin again," I said with a smile. I saw him nod, his gold eyes flashing over to the door of the bureau before climbing up the wall, leaving to fly over Jerusalem again. "Fly, Altair, fly and strike your enemies."

A/N: Short chapter and late, I know. Holiday hours mixed with training equals an unhappy and stressed author but I have time off to write some more. Yay for picking this back up.


	62. Chapter 62

Chapter Sixty-Two

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has Ubisoft's name on it.

A/N: This took a very long time to get back into. I've lost so much time and passion until just recently. I need to start working on this more, get back in love with this world I've spent so many years on.

With the kitten in my arms, I turned back to walk into the bureau, seeing Malik glance up. "You look well."

"As to be expected," I replied, watching him set aside the Jerusalem map again. Taking a closer look at it, I could see that it had been updated recently. "What happened here?" I asked, pointing to a crossed out mark that looked like a square.

Looking at where my finger was trained at, Malik shook his head. "The Templar knights burned it down, nothing stands there now."

"Why would they do that?" It didn't make sense in my mind why the Templars would burn something to the ground. "…what stood here?"

"It was a mosque, not yet a decade old." Seeing my confused face, Malik shook his head. "It was once a safe house for assassin, whenever they weren't able to reach the safety of a bureau." Pointing at another blackened square, he sighed. "A synagogue stood here. And here, a church."

"They're destroying places of worship, why?"

Malik rose his hand, his shoulder lifted. "I know not what goes on in the minds of Templars. I only know that if they're not stopped, then this and more will continue."

Looking up at the Dai, I could tell he was worried. "Altair's last target was destroying books, scrolls, any and all of the written word. Do you think it would have a connection to this?" 

With furrowed brow, Malik pulled away from the map. "I don't know, perhaps but I don't see any connections. Perhaps you do. You have been with Altair on his mission."

"The Templars… they don't pick sides, that much has been proven already." Letting the kitten fall from my arms, I leaned against the counter, looking at the map. "I've seen so much pain and agony, much more than I can handle. It plagues my dreams and thoughts and with every target, my head begins to pound and memory fades into the blackness." Looking up at him, I scared myself. I couldn't see, not properly at least. My vision blurred and wavered with unfallen tears. "I'm terrified that this will take my life."

Lowering my head onto my waiting hand, I could see as drops fell. "I'm scared, Malik. I'm scared of what I know and what I must do."

"What must you do?" He whispered, drawing closer. Uncertainty filled his dark eyes, making my stomach start to hurt.

I didn't answer, I merely pulled away, trying to ignore the look I was getting. I knew I was looking suspicious, I knew that I would probably never be trusted again, but this was the punishment I was getting.

I would betray their trust by killing Altair.

-.-.-

The birds in the courtyard flew as a familiar shadow fell across, boots landing on the stone below. Malik walked through the door from the back, looking pleased at Altair's hasty arrival. I could tell that this was the moment, this is what I needed to do. Standing up from the corner of the bureau, I pulled close to the doorway, watching as the two friends met in the middle.

Altair was panting, having ran a distance away as his robes flew behind him with every step. Malik pulled away some, a small smile on his face. "You've got the scent of success about you, brother," he said with a grin. Ah yes, Altair did begin to smell but it was only natural, after all, he did run.

Altair frowned, not in the joking mood. No, not on this mission, not when the target was one who created so much pain between the two of them, who killed a young man and destroyed another career. "I've learned much about our enemy," he said calmly, as if to remind Malik why he was there exactly.

There was a coldness in Malik's eyes. "Share your knowledge then. Let us see what can be done with it." Going around the counter, he pulled out the giant tome, setting it down and opened it up. Reaching behind him, he grabbed a quill and ink pot, dipping the quill in to begin writing.

Lowering his hood, Altair nodded. This was new, I had never seen him lower his hood for anything other than to bathe and to get healed from the arrow in his back. Had he really changed that much? "Robert and his Templars walk the city," he said, waving a hand out, as if to show where they were. "They've come to pay their respects to Maj'd Addin. They'll attend his funeral, which means, so will I."

This surprised Malik. He looked up from his writing, pausing in it. "What is this that Templars would attend his funeral?" he asked, his head cocked as his brow furrowed.

Shaking his head, Altair looked away. "I've yet to divine their true intentions, but I'll have a confession in time." Letting out a breath, his golden gaze turned back to Malik. "The citizens themselves are divided. Many call for their lives; still others insist they are here to parley, to make peace." He spoke the French word badly but I held my tongue, watching them interact.

Malik's head snapped up. "Peace?"

The assassin nodded. "I told you. The others I've slain have said as much to me." Crossing his arms, Altair's gaze lowered, putting the pieces together in his head. This riddle would bother him for some time, until the very end. I put my hand to the blade at my side, reminding myself of my mission.

Confused by what he was just told, Malik shook his head, pulling away from the open book, the page blotted with ink. "That would make them our allies. And yet, we kill them."

Shaking his head, Altair frowned. "Make no mistake, we are nothing like these men." I could hear the pride in his voice as he drew the line between the assassins and Templars. "Though they goal sounds noble, the means by which they achieve it are not." He paused, looking away. "At least, that is what Al Mualim told me."

I had noticed that he had dropped the man's title, my heart skipping as I felt a sense of pride run through me. But why? Why should I be proud that he turns from our master?

The Dai nodded, listening to his friend. "So what is your plan?"

With his head held high, Altair spoke with utter surety. "I'll attend the funeral and confront Robert."

Nodding his blessings, Malik reached under the counter, laying out a white feather. "The sooner, the better." As he watched Altair pick it up, he gave a small smile. "Fortune favor your blade, brother."

Altair stiffened at the words, glancing over at me before turning back to the Dai who was finishing his report. "Malik, before I go there is something I should say," he spoke quietly, his eyes lowered.

Waving the quill, Malik didn't look up from his report. "Be out with it."

"I have been a fool."

The quill stopped as Jerusalem's rafik looked back up to the assassin. "Normally I'd make no argument, but what is this? What are you talking about?" he asked, a brow raised as he sat up straight.

"All this time, I've never told you I was sorry." A fist unclenched as fingers hung lax. "Too damn proud." Looking at the empty sleeve, Altair let out a breath. "You've lost your arm because of me." Malik's hand went to his sleeve, trying to hide his missing limb. "Lost Kadar. You had every right to be angry."

Malik shook his head. "I do not accept your apology."

Altair closed his eyes. "I understand." My heart went out to the assassin. I wanted nothing more than to go to him, to comfort him.

"No, you don't. I do not accept your apology because you are not the same man who went with me into Solomon's Temple. And so you have nothing to apologize for." Setting his hand on Altair's bracer in a clasp, Malik nodded.

Altair could only look at his friend, in shock perhaps, I couldn't tell. "Malik."

Pulling away from the bracer, the Dai could only grin, a sadness touching his eyes. "Perhaps if I had not been so envious of you, I would not have been so careless myself." His hand went to his chest, to his heart. "I am just as much to blame."

Altair shook his head, hands clenched in fists again. "Don't say such things!" His was angry. Angry at himself maybe but I could see that this was something that was on his mind for a long time. Kadar did look up to him and just learning of Malik's jealousy, perhaps this was upsetting him even more.

"We are one. As we share in the glory of our victory, so too must we share the pain of defeat. In this, we grow closer, we grow stronger." I could see that both men had grown wise in this time, that both men would be the ones I knew they'd be. They were brothers in arms, best friends and that bond had been strengthened and tightened. In this, I could see their strength. Yes, I was proud.

Altair smiled, an actual smile as the clasped their arms, fire in his eyes. "Thank you, brother." Their hands shook before parting, mending their bond and relationship.

Waving his hand to the courtyard, to where Altair had always stayed, Malik nodded. "Rest if you need to, Altair, that you might be prepared for what lies ahead."

Nodding, Altair's hand went to his hood, raising it back up, covering his hair again before he bowed his head in Malik's direction. When Malik nodded back, Altair left to go to the courtyard, ready to start his mission. I could only smile over at Malik as I walked to the courtyard.

"Thank you, Elisheba."

Nodding, I looked down at the ground before looking into the gold eyes of the assassin before me. "Don't kill him, not right away." I could see confusion swimming in the gold. "He'll wear a helm, take it off first. Watch him die without interference, so that you know it is done."

"Words of advice from a soothsayer?"

"Words of advice from a friend, assassin."

Altair nodded, putting a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. "Advice I will take. Thank you."

A/N: I LIVE!


End file.
